


Hello, Middle-Earth

by simbelmyne_onmygrave



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Minor Character Death, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Multi, Original Character-centric, Original Female Character - Freeform, Scottish Character, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-29 23:43:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simbelmyne_onmygrave/pseuds/simbelmyne_onmygrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a girl from Scotland somehow appears in Rivendell, all she wants is to go back home. There are other matters to attend to though - The War of the Ring is upon them, with Anna being dragged along for the ride whether she wants to or not.  Will she adjust to this new world?  Or ultimately crumble beneath the demands it makes of her? </p><p>Rated M based on battle gore and slight adult themes in later chapters. Follows movie-verse with references to the books.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Council of Elrond

Gandalf the Grey hurried up the steps of Rivendell, immediately heading toward the Healing Houses of Imladris.  Frodo was here, and from what he heard from Aragorn, was still in the midst of healing.  The guilt of leaving Frodo to the hands of the Witch-king still weighed on his mind, even though he knew the Hobbit was safely resting.  

Once he approached Elrond, he  could see that the body the Elf was bent over did not resemble a Hobbit’s.

“Gandalf, I cannot express the gratitude which I feel at your coming.”  Elrond, Lord of Rivendell exclaimed, greatly relieved at the wizard’s presence.   

“I came as soon as I was able.” The wizard sighed.  “I hear Frodo has indeed made it to your city, with help from Aragorn and your daughter?  That is quite a feat.”

Elrond felt a slight irritation at the mention of what happened at the Ford.  Before he could protest her thoughts, she was gone.  Arwen had risked her life for Aragorn, a Ranger who was quite capable of handling himself.

“Yes, the Ring-Bearer is here, but there is something else I have asked you here for.  I believe Frodo is well enough to wait.  This, however, cannot.”  

“Elrond, I really must insist on seeing Frodo.  He has gone through such a trauma.  Surely, this can wait but a few moments while I make sure of his health with my own eyes?”   

The elf shook his head.  “It demands our immediate attention.”   

Gandalf raised an eyebrow.  “Well, lead on then.  Let us see what is so important.”   

Elrond nodded once and walked over to the room next to Frodo’s.  It held only one bed, and two elves that were hurriedly infusing herbs into a  healing balm for the patient lying in the bed.  She was clearly not of this world, Elrond thought to himself, looking at her unusual garments and hair.  So where did she come from?  He could only hope Gandalf the Grey would know.  

“So, what is this mystery that needs unraveling?”  Gandalf asked, not willing to waste anymore time than needed on what he viewed as a trivial matter.  

“This girl is the cause of my concern.”  He gestured to his guest who was still asleep in the bed, looking just as peaceful as she did when she appeared on their steps just outside the city boundaries.   

The wizard glanced at her, instantly seeing what the elf had.  She did not belong.   

“Where did she come from?”  He asked, moving swiftly so he hovered just above her head, examining every aspect he could.  

“We do not know.  My scouts found her outside the city, laying on our steps, unconscious.  She has not woken since she was first found.”  He explained.  

“She is under some spell.  Whether from craft of Saruman or Sauron, I cannot tell.  It is strong, but I may be able to lessen it some so she can provide some answers.”  He closed his eyes as he laid his hand over her face, muttering an incantation he learned long ago.

After mere moments of the mutterings, he heard a gasp and opened his eyes only to meet green irises.  He backed away, giving her some needed space, and watched as she fought to keep her breathing in order.  Her gaze flitted from corner to corner of the room to the two males standing before her.   

He knew Elrond would not need to be told to keep back  He was a master in the healing arts and would be able to tell the girl was trying to make sense of her surroundings.  Her eyes trained on him, and glared.   

“Where am I?”  She asked sternly, although he could tell it was a mask to hide her fear.  Masks were good, it meant she could deal with fear when it came.

“You are in Rivendell, under the care of Master Elrond.  You were found just outside his city.  Tell me, do you know how you came upon Imladris?”   

“Rivendell?”  She asked, her voice wavering.  “What do you mean?”   

He smiled gently at her. “My dear, you are in Middle-Earth, it is plain you do not belong to this world, so I ask how you came to appear here.”   

She blinked several times.  Comprehension suddenly dawning.  “Middle-Earth?”   

He nodded.  “Yes.”

“As in, elves and dwarves and men and dragons, Middle-Earth?”   

Again, he nodded, a slight chuckle erupting from him.   

“I’m in Middle-Earth.”  It was clear to him that her inquiry wasn’t to him nor Elrond directly, but rather herself.   

He allowed her a few moments to herself before speaking.  “You seem familiar with the name.”  He prodded.   

She nodded slowly.  “You could say that…”

“Do you have an idea as to how you came here?  I would guess you didn’t come here by choice?”  He asked, wondering if she had heard of their world, then why was she behaving as if she couldn’t believe it.  

She shook her head.  “No.  Believe me, this is the last thing I need right now.”  She muttered, swinging her legs over the bedside, attempting to stand.  

The wizard was relieved to see Elrond immediately come to her side, as he was still weak from his confrontation with Saruman the White.

“You needn’t rise just yet.  Give your body some time to heal and rest while I speak with Gandalf.”

The man in question silently agreed.  It took more energy than it should have to rouse her.  It was a dark spell, one of few that had been newly created, and Gandalf had an idea of where it had come from.  However, the why was escaping him. Why the girl, and why deposit her on the steps of one of the purest beings to inhabit MIddle-Earth?  

Gandalf was not used to being in the dark in such instances, and found no comfort in it now.  

The girl looked as though she were about to ignore Elrond’s advice, but the Wizard halted her movements.  “Lord Elrond is right.  You need rest.   We shall not be far.”  His suspicion that she was wholly against being left alone were affirmed as her shoulders sagged and she nodded to him.   He gave her a reassuring smile, and gestured for Elrond to follow him out of the room.

They strode near the doorway and Elrond spoke as soon as they passed the threshold. “The girl knows nothing.  It is clear in her eyes.” He gave the wizard a fixed look.  “Why would Saruman or Sauron bring her here?  What advantage does it bring them, if we are to be sure this was their doing?”

“It was Saruman.” Gandalf said grimly.  The energy surrounding the spell was similar to that of the White Wizard’s magic.  There was no mistaking it.  “Though I know not for what purpose.”  

“We must know, Gandalf, and soon.  The Ring has reached Rivendell, and now this human girl falls on my doorstep?  That cannot be mere coincidence.”  

“No,” agreed the Wizard, “It cannot.  But what do you propose we do with her?  We cannot leave her to the Enemy.”  

“She should be in your care.” Elrond answered.  “You would best protect her, and you know what magic ails her.  Even now, you can sense it, as can I.  Something is lingering in her, Gandalf, and you are the only one with sufficient knowledge of it to be of any help to her.”

“She cannot be in my care, Elrond.  The girl appeared in your lands, perhaps you were meant to find her.”  He knew the elf was right, he thought to himself as his gaze turned toward the girl, whose red-orange hair was the only thing visible around the white linens that enveloped her.  It was something he wasn’t familiar with, being responsible for someone.  He felt it was his duty as Saruman’s knowledge of the Ring, and thus Sauron’s by association, came from him.  He was the reason Frodo was injured by the Witch-King and why Rivendell was under scrutiny.  He could very well be this girl’s only hope of survival.

“She cannot stay in Rivendell,” Elrond insisted.  “And neither can the Ring for that matter.”  

The Wizard focused his full attention on the elf.  “Elf-magic could protect them both.”  He tried to persuade him, but knew by the furrowing of the elf’s brow, that he would not be swayed.  

She is to be in his care, then.  So be it.

He sighed. “Very well.  I will care for her, but she will stay in Rivendell until Frodo can get to his feet.  I will not leave him behind… not again.”  

“Very well.  After Frodo is well-enough, and after the Council, you must leave with the girl.”  

“Understood.”  

He hoped he would not lead her the way he did Frodo.  He shot a glance toward the doorway leading to the Halfling.  He made a silent promise to himself to make sure the girl and Frodo were safe.  She would be returned to her land, and Frodo would return to the Shire where he could remain out of harms way.  Yes, that would be best...

*****************

As she lay there, Anna barely held back a snort.  Didn’t they know she could hear them?  Or did they think that because she was a “wee human” that she couldn’t tell if people were talking about her?

Glancing to her side, she saw an elf-maiden pouring more water into the bowl beside her bed from a silver pitcher.  The she-elf gazed at her for a moment, then hurried off toward Elrond and Gandalf, who still stood in the doorway.  She tried to seem like she wasn’t paying any attention to them, but failed miserably when she caught the weary eye of the wizard.  Anna tried to sit up, her aching body betraying her by her arms giving out, causing her to collapse in bed, only to give it another go as soon as she was able to anchor herself properly.

“I take it you are not one to rest, my lady?”  He inquired once he had reached her bedside again.  

She shook her head. “No, not really.”

He nodded to himself, seeming to look her over. “Of course not.” he murmured to himself. He looked at her then, locking eyes with her and hardened his gaze.   “After such an ordeal, one would not fault you for recovering rather than trying to get on your feet.  Hold onto that, for there may come a time where you will need that strength more than anything.”

She blinked at him and had to remind herself to keep a straight face.  Strength?  She didn’t have strength.  Right now she had panic, worry, and a slight anger that confused her all the more.  She felt foreign, although she supposed she was.  

She was quite sure she was dreaming until she realized that she was nowhere near this creative.  Sure, everything looked as she imagined, but she still could not fathom her subconscious turning this elaborate.  

“If you do not mind, I am going to check on a dear friend of mine.  I will not be far,  he is lying in the next room in fact.”  

“Okay.” She said, not quite knowing what else to say.  She already knew the “friend” was Frodo.  

He seemed to sense her hesitance, and smiled at her, “Would you like to join me?  I am sure Master Elrond would not mind if I steal you away into the next room.  You may meet Frodo, who I am sure would love the extra company.”  

She looked to Elrond, who wore a look of disapproval on his face.  Her face fell from the slight grin that was forming.  She looked away, crossing her arms over her chest, resigned to staying in her bed until after the Council meeting.  She knew it wouldn’t end with her in Gandalf’s care, since he would accompany Frodo on his journey to Mount Doom.   Who would help her then?  Elrond didn’t seem too happy with her being here, not that she blamed him, so he was ruled out.  

“She may go.”  Came Elrond’s smooth voice, cutting through her thoughts like a sharp knife.  Did she hear correctly?

“Excellent!”  Gandalf cried, already heading toward the door and the next room.

Anna hurried to get out of bed, but swayed slightly, the room spinning around her.  She sat back down and suddenly the back of a warm hand hovered over her forehead.  “You are still ill.  You should stay in bed and rest more.”  Elrond told her, his dark-blue eyes looking into hers, making her feel exposed.  She shrank back from his gaze and stood up once more, the dizziness fading after a few seconds, and she was stable enough to walk.  

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.” She said stiffly, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible.

Striding past the older elf, who seemed to want to make her lay back down, she turned into Frodo’s room, which she wryly admitted, was significantly grander than her own.

“Is this she, Gandalf?”  The blue-eyed Hobbit asked.  

The wizard turned toward her.  “Yes, it is indeed.  Come,  let me introduce you to Frodo.  He is recovering from a similar ordeal.  Here, sit!” He got off his chair and made to stand behind it.  

“No, I’m fine.  Standing should help clear my head, actually.”  She replied, but much to her dismay, the wizard stayed upright, the chair abandoned for the time being.

“And what ordeal have you gone through to warrant a visit to the house of healing as well?” He looked to be at  a loss, glancing from her to Gandalf, and back to her again, “I’m sorry, I do not know your name…”

“Anna.”  She said simply, looking at the Hobbit analytically.  He was pale, and younger than she’d imagined.  Hadn’t the book said that Frodo was in his forties or something close to that?  The Hobbit laying in front of her couldn’t be more than twenty, if that.

“Anna” said the older wizard, almost as if he were testing how it felt on his tongue.  “That’s quite a pretty name, unusual as well.”  

“It’s a common name in Scotland.”  

She fought to keep her nonchalant attitude as she realized that she just let something slip.  

The Hobbit’s face turned into a puzzled grimace.  “Scotland?”  Frodo inquired, looking again at Gandalf, as if he held all the answers to this new riddle.

“Anna is not from our world, it is true, and you must not reveal that fact to anyone beyond those in this room and Lord Elrond. It is Saruman’s craft, I told you of his betrayal. It seems his reach is farther than any of us had imagined.  You must keep this to yourself, lest news of her arrival reach his ears.”

The boy nodded, looking at her again with wide-eyes.  He looked so afraid. She didn’t understand how he was supposed to undertake the journey of the Ring and still survive.  

Gandalf seemed pleased enough with his response and relaxed his stiff posture, stealing a glance out the window by Frodo’s bed. “Enough of the unpleasant matters…  It seems your friends are anxiously waiting for your recovery.  Do you feel you can go visit them, and assure them you are well, or shall I summon them here?”  He asked the Hobbit.

“I think I can manage a walk.”  Frodo said, sitting up.

“Good, you go on then.  I have some things to discuss with Anna that you needn’t concern yourself with.  I will get you shortly for the Council meeting.”  

Once Frodo was out of sight, he turned toward her, a frown spreading across his face.  “I apologize for not getting your name earlier, I was distracted by your mysterious arrival. Elrond has placed you in my care, and my care is where you will stay until we can sort out how Saruman brought you here and why.”

“What does he want with me?” She asked.  “I have no connection to the Ring.”  

His dark bearing told her that she had made yet another mistake. “How do you know of the Ring?”  

Her eyes widened with panic.  “I-I just know.  It’s mentioned in my world.”

“How is it mentioned in your world?  Do you have scholars that know of Middle-Earth and the Enemy?  Or are you a spy of Saruman’s sent to trick me?”  His frame suddenly seemed much taller and foreboding than before.  As if he could crush her in an instant, and she knew that he could.  

“No!  I swear, I’m not a spy!  I don’t know how I came here, I’ve never met Saruman!  There are books in my world.”  She knew she was riding a fine line with telling him this, but she didn’t have much choice.  If he named her spy, every good force in Middle-Earth would be looking for her, if the wizard didn’t smite her first.  

He glared at her, making her feel as small as an insect.

“Explain yourself.”

“There are books telling of the histories of Middle-Earth and the tale of the Ring.  Some things are changed…” She thought back to Frodo and Elrond.  “But most of it has stayed the same from what I’ve seen and heard.  Frodo getting the Ring from Bilbo, you discovering it was the One, and Frodo being chased by the Nine.  All of that is in those books.”

She bit her lip. She wasn’t sure how much she should reveal. What if she changed the whole fate of this world?  What if by her telling everything, an unforeseen consequence caused it to shift and change into something unrecognizable?  

“Do not tell me everything, knowledge can be just as great a weapon as a blade.” He told her, fully relaxing his menacing pose.  

“So you believe me now?”  She asked meekly.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she felt the tension leave her shoulders, something she figured he had something to do with.  

“I have no choice, as you are telling the truth.  As of this moment, we remain friends.  However, one inclination that you are truly sided with the Enemy, and I will not hesitate to do all that I can to stop you.” He warned, causing her to gulp.  She was reminded, yet again, of the power he held being Gandalf the Grey, and not Gandalf, Maker of Fireworks and Magic Tricks.   

“Now, Anna, this is very important, you must listen to what I have to say.” He paused, making sure he had her complete attention.  “You cannot tell anyone about your world, Saruman, or your knowledge of the Ring.  Others would see that as evidence of a spy, just as I did, but they will not be able to see what I do.  I know you are more lost than you care to realize,” she made to argue, but he cut her off, “do not deny it.  I had to feel in your heart to wake you in your bed.  As long as you keep those secrets close to you, you will be fine.  Trust no one but myself and Lord Elrond.  Do you understand?”

She nodded and he motioned for her to follow him.  He led her to another room another elf was preparing the bedding.  “Lady Anna will be needing…” he looked at her attire, again, making her want to shrink back, “more fitting garments as she will be attending the Council with me.”

The elf bowed, and swept away, only to come back moments later with what looked like a purple coat made of satiny-material and another dress a shade lighter.

“Is the Lady pleased with these?”  The maid asked.  

She nodded.  How could she not be?  They were gorgeous, and not fit to be worn by her.  She was sure she would not do them justice.  

“Ah, I believe these are from Lady Arwen’s own wardrobe?”  

Anna almost dropped the material as it was handed to her.  Arwen?  As in Elrond’s daughter, and the maiden known for a beauty to rival Luthien’s?

“I thought so.  Arwen knows of this, correct?”  Gandalf asked calmly, clearly already knowing the answer.

“Yes.  The Lady insisted on it.”  

“Then we shall not insult her by refusing her generosity.”  He shot a knowing look at Anna.

Anna gently took the clothing from the elf and hurried into a separate room to change.  There were so many buttons and different ways to wrap the cloth around her.  The girl was half-tempted to call someone in to help her with it when it suddenly slipped onto her perfectly, molding itself around her body.  She felt relief, seeing that she wasn’t as well endowed as her mother, otherwise the ensemble wouldn’t have fit properly.

Her chest tightened suddenly at the reminder of what she had left behind.

Her mother probably didn’t notice her only daughter was gone.  Not because she was a bad parent, but because she was extremely busy with work and looking after her brother after his release from yet another rehab a month ago.  It seemed to slam into her then that this was really happening. She wasn’t in her world anymore, she couldn’t see her school mates and family members anymore.  

Panicking at the thought that she might never see them again, she scrambled around in her jeans pocket, looking for her father’s pocket watch.  It was the only thing from home that she had on her when this all happened.  If she couldn’t see them again, she at least wanted something to hold onto.  The dress and coat didn’t have any pockets, so she quickly stuffed it in-between her breasts, the chain allowing it to settle behind her bra.  She knew it would be partially visible, but she refused to leave it behind.  She needed something to remind her of her past, something that tethered her to her family and reminded her of where she came from. Lest this world swallow her whole, as it was starting to already.

She stepped out, mindful of the swishing of the dress across the floor, also acknowledging that she was a bit shorter than the lady who owned the gown, and held the extra fabric in her hands and looked up at Gandalf shyly.  

“It suits you.” He said, holding out his arm for her to take, and led her through the grand architecture to a courtyard with a circle of chairs and a marble, flat statue in the middle.  

They watched as person after person filled the chairs, noticing them all filing in from different areas.

“Gandalf?”  

“Yes, my dear.” He replied, eyeing one man in particular, one she recognized as Boromir from the shield he carried.

“How will I be getting back home?”  She inquired, knowing this would her last chance for the wizard to help her.  He didn’t know it yet, but he would be going on his own journey and it would not include her.  He must help her before the Council was set in motion and he agreed to help the Hobbit.  

“We will have time for such things later, my dear.” He insisted, still roving the newcomers in an almost harsh gaze.  “Right now, I must concentrate on what is to be done about the Ring. “ He turned to her, “I promise you that I will do everything in my power to keep you from Saruman’s hands, and back to your loved ones.”  He assured her.  .

Anna tried to argue with him but he tugged her to another chair beside the anxious Hobbit playing with the gold band in his hands.  Gandalf stood behind her, as he had sternly, but gently guided her to take the chair that was clearly meant for him.

She felt him lean down to murmur in her ear, “Now, you must not say anything about yourself, save for your name.  They do not need to know anything about Saruman’s involvement at your coming to this world.  It would greatly unsettle them, as I warned before.”  

“I won’t, I promise.” She breathed back, her anxiety hitting near its peak as she wrung her hands in her lap.  She avoided eye contact with anyone who tried to look at her, instead she chose to focus on the ground, and the leaves that were scattered. The leaves could almost make her believe she was back home.  

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Elrond approach, already changed, and looking at all of them expectantly.  

The chatter instantly quieted down, and she felt it was safe enough to look up.

It was obvious who were the Dwarves, Elves, and Men as they all sat close together with their respective race.  She could pick out each member of the Fellowship fairly easily, their features too obvious to be anyone else.

Elrond spoke of how the Ring was finally out in the open and how they were either to band together or fall to their own fates.  His ominous warning amplified by Frodo placing the Ring on the pedestal.   

She instantly felt its power.  The whispering promise of giving her, her heart's desire was strong.  The idea that if she just picked it up… If she simply held it in her hand, everything would be alright. She had barely moved out of her chair when she felt Gandalf’s firm hand on her shoulder, steadying her and restraining any more movement on her part.  

She had read about the Ring’s power, but she had never guessed how strong the pull was before now.  It was astounding to witness first-hand.  She was shaking, she knew, but she felt comfort looking around and seeing that she was not the only one affected.  Every single being in that room was reacting in some way, fidgeting in their seats as if they were as anxious to leap out of them as she was.  

“In a dream,” Boromir began, standing from his seat, walking slowly over to the Ring,  “I saw the eastern sky grow dark.  In the west, a pale light lingered, a voice was crying, “Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's bane is found.” His hand was outstretched, toward the Ring.  A little farther and he would have it in his grasp.  “Isildur's bane…”  

Before Anna could sort through her confusion of Faramir's dream being suddenly claimed as Boromir's, Gandalf started shouting the cruel, harsh language of Mordor - the Black Speech.  

She heard the words as though they were in English, yet the echo of their true nature was laced within the translation.  

_“One Ring to rule them, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.”_

The sky grew dark, but suddenly the clouds broke as Gandalf stopped his utterings.  She felt the weight that grew heavy in her chest dissipate, and the whispering voice in her head faded as well.

She didn’t understand how the words were translated as they were.  Anna had read the stories, yes, but she didn’t know the languages of Middle-Earth that well.  

“Never before has anyone uttered that tongue here in Imladris.”  Said Elrond, looking at the wizard indignantly.  

“I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west!”  

Boromir spoke again, this time arguing that the Ring could be used against Sauron.  His speech completely ignoring the point Gandalf was trying to make.  When Legolas announced the attendance of Isildur's heir, it caused Boromir’s whole body to grow rigid and she was shocked to see the heat coming from his gaze at the once assumed “mere Ranger”.  

The Boromir she had read about disliked the Ranger, yes.  He had viewed the Dunedain as a threat to his father’s rule, and rightly so.  Yet, dislike was not what she saw in the Gondorian’s eyes, it burned brighter than that.  

Why were things changed so much?  This was not what was written by Tolkien at all.  The words were wrong, the situations different, and even the characters, the ones she thought she knew so well, were changed.  

She suddenly heard a deep growl, and noticed a Dwarf, Gimli, rushing forward, ax swinging and suddenly a great crash rang out as the metal was shattered.  The gold ring lay there, having not strayed an inch from where the Hobbit had placed it, completely unharmed.

The Ring’s whisperings grew more urgent, as though it sensed the intention to destroy all around it.  Pain was burning in her skull, causing it to throb and her vision began to swirl.   

“The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft we here possess.”  Elrond reminded everyone, strangely calm about the situation, almost as if he expected such an outburst from the red-headed male.  “The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom.  Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back in the fiery chasm from whence it came.”  He peered at each of them sternly.  “One of you... must do this.”  

Anna turned to Frodo as the men around them began to bicker.  The Hobbit looked as though he were still in as much pain as she.  Anna took his hand and gently squeezed before letting go.  He glanced at her and tried to smile, but it faltered before it began. Then the bickering erupted into full-blown arguments with yelling, and wildly exaggerated hands.  She then took the opportunity to speak to him quietly.

“It’ll be alright you know.”  She said, trying to sound re-assuring.

“How do you know that?” He winced, the grip on his forehead getting tighter as the bickering grew more heated.

“I just do.  Trust yourself, and everything will be fine.”  She replied, leaning back in her seat and watched the rest of them argue, while Gandalf moved to join them.  She didn’t miss the Hobbit’s look of utter confusion at her before his attention suddenly snapped to the Ring.  

Whatever it was muttering to him, she knew this was what would make his decision.  The reflection of the argument grew in the Ring’s band, and fire started to envelop those within it.  It seemed to fit with what Gandalf said earlier, it would destroy them all if they let it remain as it was.  

“I will take it!”  Frodo stood, taking a few steps toward them, but he was so short and quiet, he had to raise his voice and repeat himself. “I will take the Ring to Mordor!”  He suddenly had each of their attention.  Gandalf was visibly uneasy about the Hobbit’s declaration.

“Though….I do not know the way.”  Frodo admitted, look to each of them with hope.   

“I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins,” said Gandalf,  “as long as it is yours to bear.” He walked toward the Hobbit and stood behind him, much like he did with Anna during the beginning of the Council.  

She watched as each of the Fellowship’s members announced their allegiance to the Halfling, and looking to Elrond, expected him to declare them the Fellowship as they were but he didn’t. Instead, he was frowning, looking between herself and Gandalf, clearly disturbed.

Just as it looked as if he were about to speak again, Samwise Gamgee came sprinting out of the bushes near them, and rushed over to the gathered group. “Mr. Frodo’s not going anywhere without me!”  He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look intimidating and final.

She was happy to see Elrond’s mood lift in amusement at Sam’s insistence at being taken along as well.  “Clearly it is impossible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.” He smirked at them.  

She gave a little laugh, earning her the split-second gaze of the Fellowship, as she knew who else would be joining them soon enough.  As if on cue, Merry and Pippin came running and stood next to Frodo as well, claiming they were joining as well.

Pippin spoke up, “You need people of intelligence for this sort of mission...quest...thing.”

“Well, that rules you out, Pip.”  Merry remarked.

She grinned widely.  She was familiar with this.  Merry and Pippin’s camaraderie and good-natured teasing.  Maybe things hadn’t changed so much after all.

“Nine companions….” Elrond began, shooting a quick glance at Anna, before turning  back toward the group, “So be it.  You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.”  

At his announcement, it was almost as if they all straightened once the importance of this journey was understood. “Right,” Pippin broke in, “Where are we going?”

They all gave a laugh at the Hobbit’s pure innocence and foolishness, but their humor quickly evaporated.   They soon separated to ready themselves for the journey, and were scattered throughout Imladris for the time-being.  

Unable to contain herself any longer, she walked over to Gandalf and Elrond.  She didn’t care if she was about to be rude to people who had helped her when she clearly couldn’t help herself.  She needed answers, and she wasn’t about to just sit back, and allow her only chance at returning home slip through her fingers.

By the time she had reached them though, they already begun their conversation. She hung back, listening with bated breath.

“Gandalf,” Elrond said, “She cannot stay here.  She is as much a danger to Rivendell as the Ring itself.”

The wizard took on an agitated expression. “That may not be true. We still have no knowledge as to why Saruman brought her here.  I did not think you to be so cold toward someone who needed your help, Lord Elrond.  Perhaps I was wrong.”

“I will not risk my people for an outsider who is not of this world.  I held her here while she recovered, but now that she has, there is no further reason for her to remain.  You must either deal with her and leave the Fellowship, or bring her with you.”

Anna’s heart sunk. Even Elrond didn’t want to risk her staying here any longer than necessary.  If Gandalf didn’t agree to help her, she would be lost.  There would be no hope for her.    

“I am looking out for the good of all when I say this, Gandalf - you cannot leave her.  You alone are the only one who truly knows Saruman, and you alone can help her.  Not I, nor any other elf you come across.  Elf-magic is not strong enough to hide her forever.  I understand why you hesitate to expose her to such dangers, but it may be the only way.”  

When she heard Gandalf’s sigh of resignation, she knew what he had decided and felt her hope dwindle.  She was joining the Fellowship, and there was nothing she could do about it.


	2. The Ring Goes South

Gandalf strode off, noticing the red-orange hue of Anna’s hair, signaling that he had another eavesdropper among them.  

“Just what do you think you are doing, my lady?”  He called to her, watching her jump in surprise at being caught.  

He chuckled a bit and gestured for her to follow him.  He began walking toward the healing houses again, intent on finding another maid.   

She rushed to fall into step with him, as she asked, “So, I’m going with you, then?”  

He held back his answer, as he knew it wouldn’t be the reply the girl wanted to hear.  

“Gandalf?”  She insisted, standing rooted to the spot.

He stopped as well, and looked at her.  

She was just an innocent in all this.  She was never supposed to be here, she was never supposed to undertake this burden.  

He then glanced over at the four Hobbits who were chatting excitedly, or rather, Merry, Pippin, and Sam were. Frodo seemed to understand that this would not be just another trip of theirs.  

They were all innocents, and yet, they were partaking in a quest that would no doubt destroy it.  

Turning back to the young outsider before him, he replied, “Yes, it appears you are indeed coming along with the Fellowship.”  

“But how can you concentrate on sending me home when you have to protect Frodo and the Ring?”  She responded anxiously.

He rested a hand on her shoulder, guiding her toward the rest of the group, “We will find a way, Anna, I assure you.  Right now, we need to get you ready to leave.”  He said, leading her again back toward the building.  

He knew that was not the answer she wanted, or even needed, but it was the best he had.  He could not leave Frodo alone with the Ring again, and he could not leave her to be snatched by the Enemy for whatever purpose.  This was his only option.

They walked by several empty rooms before finding one that contained an elf that could help.  She seemed to be sorting through the linens and blankets, but otherwise unoccupied, so he gently cleared his throat to catch her attention.  

“The Lady will be joining us on our mission, and I wish to have her clothed properly for travel. Would you know of anything that would be appropriate for her?”  He asked.

She bowed in response. “Yes, Grey Wizard.  Shall I fetch it for you, or shall the lady come with me?”  

“I think it would be best for her to look at the garments herself, as she will be in them for quite some time.” He gave a small smirk to the red-head beside him, trying to ease some of Anna’s visible tension.  It seemed to work, as her shoulders relaxed and her hands stopped fidgeting.

“Very well,” she turned to Anna, “Follow me.”  

The girl glanced at him, and he gave a gentle smile and a nod, urging her forward.  He then waited a short time, much shorter than he expected her to take to change. She returned dressed in appropriate travel garb, complete with trousers, boots, a shirt, and a chest guard with bits of light chainmail peeking out.

“There,” he said, “Now does that make you feel more comfortable?”  

She looked at her clothing, “I don’t know.  It’s all so light…”  She pulled at the chainmail that reached past the end of her shirt, testing its weight.

He raised an eyebrow at her.  “Now shall we go join the others?” He offered his arm to her again.  She nodded and took it.  

He then led her off in the direction of the gathered Fellowship, all of whom seemed to be waiting on the wizard.  

Once they had rejoined the group, they now had the full attention of the men, elf, and dwarf that agreed to come along as well. He regarded them carefully.  

He was hesitant to agree with Gimli coming along.  He looked so much like his father and he seemed to have the same uninhibited hatred of elves too.  He was brash and didn’t think, just acted, which could be mean trouble for all of them.

Gandalf remembered Legolas when he helped fight during the Battle of the Five Armies.  Although, he seemed to be in the same grievance as his father - Dwarves were ridiculous, greedy creatures who care nothing for the sake of others.

When the wizard met eyes with Aragorn, remembering how he had vowed to help the Halfing in his quest as well, Gandalf could not describe how relieved he was.  The Ranger knew what dangers were out there.  He knew exactly they were undertaking and he would handle it well.  The wizard could ask for no greater companion to join them in this mission.

When Boromir turned toward Gandalf and the girl, the wizard felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach.  He knew the Captain of Gondor was honorable, but the man’s father was another story.  It was quite clear to Gandalf why the Steward had sent his eldest son to journey this far north.  The man’s eyes had not left the Ring once since Frodo had placed it on the marble.  A son’s loyalty could mean the doom of them all.  

“And who is this, Gandalf?” The aforementioned man asked, gesturing to Anna, seeming to measure her up.

“This is Anna and she will be joining us on this journey.”  He said.

He looked to each of them the need to protest clear on his face, but a stern look from the wizard silenced that.

“I did not know you would be with us as well,” Frodo began, approaching her good-naturedly. “It will be nice to have another familiar face among us.” he said, smiling.

“Familiar?”  Sam inquired. “Have you met her before, Mr. Frodo?”

“No, Sam, he just says that to everyone he meets.” chimed in Merry.

Sam shot him a glare and stayed silent.  

Gandalf, enjoying the Hobbit’s banter, met Aragorn’s confused gaze.  He knew that look.  Best get this over with then. “Aragorn, might I speak with you?”  He said, letting his arm fall away from Anna’s shoulder.

The Ranger nodded and stepped off to the side. Once they were out of hearing range, the wizard spoke quietly.  “You have questions, my lad.  Ask them.”

Aragorn seemed to hesitate a moment.  “Why are you bringing the girl?  It’s much too dangerous for her to come along.”

He agreed.  “I know the risks, but Elrond would not bend in this matter. I agreed to take the girl once the matter of the Ring is settled, and as I promised myself to the Fellowship, the girl was either to be brought along, or I was to leave Frodo.  I could not do that to him, not again.” He shook his head, remembering the wound that would forever plague the Hobbit for the rest of his life.  “You saw what happened after I failed to meet him at the Prancing Pony. I would not be able to live with myself if something were to befall him again.”  

Isildur’s heir seemed to dwell on this before giving Gandalf a grim smile.  “Then we must do whatever it takes to make sure none come to harm in our company.” The wizard nodded, grateful that Aragorn seemed to accept it easily.

“There is one more thing, Aragorn.  About the girl.”  Gandalf admitted, wondering to himself why he was choosing to  burden Aragorn with this as well.  “It seems that Saruman has taken an interest in Anna.  Neither Elrond or myself could come to understand why, but he has placed some kind of craft on the girl.  Something I was not able to fully extract from her.  It lingers and I know not the effect it will have.  Be careful.  She is an innocent in all this I think, but she may be a way Saruman can use to his advantage.”  

“Very well, I will watch her closely.”

Gandalf nodded. “That is all I ask.”

They came to rejoin the others, just as Elrond had finished speaking with them a final time.  

“...may the blessings of elves, and men, and all free folk go with you.”  The elf said, stepping to the side and allowing Aragorn and Gandalf to mingle in with the others.

The Grey Wizard looked toward the Halfling, blue-green eyes wide with apprehension.  He regretted allowing him to continue this journey.  He knew Frodo’s battle against the One would be difficult.  He could only hope to lessen that difficulty in any way he could.

His arm spread out, gesturing Frodo to take the front, “The Fellowship awaits the Ring-Bearer.”  

As the Hobbit took to the path leading out of Rivendell, Gandalf slid into step directly behind Frodo.  

“Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?”  He muttered to the wizard over his shoulder.  

He placed a hand on his left shoulder and said, “Left.”

On they went.  He didn’t know what adventures would befall them, but he knew it would change each and every one of them forever.

***********

They had been walking for hours.  

Anna’s feet were fine, the elven boots maintaining enough comfort to lessen the amount of blisters she would have had in any other shoe. However, legs were killing her.  She had never walked so far, or for so long, in her life.  She looked around, hoping to find the Fellowship just as tired, but there was barely a sign of sweat on them.  She was drenched.    

Were they superhuman in Middle-Earth or do they make treks like this all the time?

She was half-tempted to stop and ask for a break, before she realized they had to do this for a month before even getting to Hollin.  Then it was onto the frozen paths of Caradhas.  

She silently thanked herself for remembering the snowy terrain, and requesting snow-proof boots and pants, no matter how oddly the elf regarded her at the request.  She wouldn’t die from hypothermia if she could help it.

She saw how much she was lagging behind when her walking companion changed from Gandalf to Boromir.

“Where is it you hail from, my lady?  Gandalf as not mentioned it, nor you.”  The Captain of Gondor inquired.

Anna opened her mouth to speak, but knew anything she said could condemn her.  She couldn’t make up some random place. He was familiar with Middle-Earth and everything in it.  She also couldn’t lie and say she was from a known land.  It would be too easy to catch herself in it.

Just as she had resigned herself to saying something to throw him off, Aragorn spoke up from behind them.  

“Gandalf met her in Rivendell, and from there, asked that she journey with him.”  

The other man blanched.  “I believe the lady can speak for herself.”  Boromir said stiffly.

Anna, though grateful for the Ranger’s interruption and excuse, was confused as to why.  Aragorn didn’t know anything about her.  How did he know she and Gandalf had just met?

She thought carefully before speaking. “I thank you for speaking up for me, Lord Aragorn, but it was unnecessary.” He gave a slight bow and waved his hand in acquiesce, but she noticed a light smile beginning.  

Deciding to ignore the aches and pains, she marched herself toward the tallest member of their group.  She needed to figure out just what the wizard had said.

“What have you told Aragorn?”  She began, trying not to sound too confrontational.  

The wizard looked at her for a split second, then directed his gaze back the dimming horizon. “I told him nothing he did not need to hear.”  She pursed her lips.  He was clearly lying, and she didn’t understand it.

“Then how is it he knew we had just met at Imladris?”  She hissed at him, causing him to look at her in slight surprise.

He sighed as he slowed his steps so he could speak to her clearly.  “I only told him what he needed to know.”

“And that is?”  

She wasn’t really the talkative type, but this had her flummoxed.  He had been telling her time and time again to keep herself as much a secret as possible. To only trust himself and Elrond about her true homage.  Then the next minute he seemingly tells all to Aragorn, whom she had never met before.

“What I told Lord Aragorn is not of your concern.  I trust him, therefore you should as well.  I suggest you halt this interrogation of yours, lest you forget who you owe your very life to.”  

She knew she had overstepped, as his tone was laced with warning.  

Without him, she’d likely die, and she knew it.  She chewed on her lip again, suddenly regretting pushing the older man to that extent.  An apology burned in her throat but refused to come out in case he was still agitated.   

She remained silent a second more, before rushing out, “I’m sorry.”  and none too quietly either.

He glanced at her, shocked, and she guessed that at least Frodo had heard her.  

Another silence passed.

“Do not trouble yourself, Anna.  I am not angry with you, as long you trust me.”

She thought about that.  Trust him?  She barely knew him.  Yet, in the past few hours, he has shown remarkable patience with her. He gave her acceptance where she had earned none, and he promised to protect her as long as he was able. She knew what awaited them all in their inevitable venture to Moria.  For now, though,  she trusted that he would allow no harm to befall her.

“Alright, I’ll trust you.”  She whispered back.  “As long as you trust me too.”  

Admitting she wished that made her feel like a child.

He smiled at her, and nodded.  “I shall, as long as you give me reason to.”  

Anna’s brow scrunched in confusion.  Give him reason to?  

She meant to ask him about that, but he had already turned to those walking behind them.

“Master Legolas, move on ahead and scout a location for our camp tonight.”  

The lithe blonde instantly shot into motion, leaping over rocks. He swerved around the rest of the company and was soon out of sight.  

“We shall stop here until Legolas has returned.” Gandalf continued.  “Everyone, take the opportunity to rest and gather your strength.”  

Anna barely held back a relieved sigh, and sat herself on the nearest rock. Just sitting there, she closed her eyes and tried to block out the throbbing in her legs.

She knew it would be difficult to get up once Legolas had returned, but right then, she didn’t care.  She just wanted to stop moving.

She heard someone clunk down beside her.  Her eyes shot open only to see Sam’s curly hair in her face  as he prepared to get his bag off his back.  

He groaned.  “That stuff is heavier than it looks.”

“That would probably be the all those pots and pans you’re carrying.”  She said.

“I know, but I couldn’t help bringing them along.  What if we needed a certain size pot?  On a journey like this one, it doesn’t hurt bein’ prepared, you know.”  he said, giving a long look at her bagless person.

Her cheeks colored.  She probably should have offered to carry something before now, but she doubted she would have lasted as long as he did.  She wasn’t used the amount of labor they were, and was only focused on putting one foot in front of the other.   

She started to get angry with herself.  She might as well buckle down and get through this.  The faster she toughened up and saw this through, the faster she’d get home.  

Soon thereafter, Legolas came back. He told them of a spot not far down the hill  where they would be able to camp for the night. It  was littered with coverage of trees and rocks that should deter anyone from trying to reach them.

They all began walking in the direction Legolas indicated, but when Anna attempted to stand, her legs wouldn’t move.  

Oh, no.

She tried moving her left leg - it didn’t move.  She tried lifting herself off the rock with her arms, attempting to propel her body to its feet - she just fell back on the rock.

How was she supposed to get out of this?  She couldn’t move! She looked up at the others.  Panic was beginning to set in at the thought of being left behind.  As soon as she was about to call for help, she stopped.

What would they think of her?  Sam already thought she was slacking. Who knew what the others might think?

“Wait, where’s Anna?”  She heard Frodo ask.  

Anna felt her cheeks grow even hotter as each member of the Fellowship turned to see her still sitting on the rock.

“C’mon, Anna!  You can rest at camp with the rest of us.”  Pippin cut in, gesturing for her to join them.  

She tried standing again, but completely failed. This wasn’t going to end well.

“I can’t move.”  She said quietly, her shame showing through her tone.  

“What do you mean, you cannot move?”  Boromir asked quite aggressively, “You were walking not a moment ago.”  

She looked down sheepishly. “My legs won’t move.”  

“You cannot walk?”  Legolas looked at her,  confusion plain on his features. “But you are uninjured.”  

The ginger shook her head.  “It’s not that.”  

“Then what is it?”  Boromir was clearly agitated now.  “We don’t have all night to wait for you.  if you can’t keep up, then you should go back to Rivendell.”

At that her head snapped up and her eyes sought out Gandalf’s.  He wouldn’t agree with Boromir, would he?  He wouldn’t make her go back.  He wouldn’t leave her behind.

She wanted to shrink inside herself.  Their looks of disdain and impatience surrounded her.  She had no comfort here, no one to turn to.  She gripped her chest, where her pocket watch still lay snug against her skin.  This was her only comfort.  A metal piece of jewelry.  That it was all she had.  Not even one day in Middle-Earth, and she was already doomed.  

“Aragorn.” Said Gandalf, turning toward the Dunedain.  “Help Anna to her feet and to camp.”  

Boromir let out an indignant snort, and turned to walk back down the hill. The Ranger strode toward her, and helped her up.  He wrapped an arm around her abdomen and guided toward their campsite.

She was sure he could see how red her face was.  She was also positive he felt her shaking from the effort to stay standing.  

“I take it you are not used to this much travel, my lady?”  Aragorn asked her as they walked.  

She shook her head. “No.  Thank you for helping me.”  

“You do not have to thank me.  I do wonder why Gandalf brought you if you are not comfortable with the journey.”

She looked at him, but his face was stoic and concentrated on the way ahead.  

“Gandalf told me nothing about you earlier.” He continued.  “He simply told me of how Saruman was targeting you, and that was why he wanted to keep you close.”  

Her mouth dropped open, and she staggered a few steps at the confession.  Letting out a surprised grunt, he hoisted her up again.

“How did you know I was worried about that?”  She gasped.

“You were speaking about it with Gandalf earlier.”  He said simply, gently guiding her as the hill reached a steep decline.

Trying to focus on her footing as much as the conversation, she kept her gaze on her feet.  “You could hear us?  I didn’t think we were that loud.”  

“You were not, but I can hear what most can’t.”  The corner of his mouth turned upright slightly.

She nodded to herself.  “The benefits of being one of the Dunedain.”  She muttered.

He gave her a surprised look.  “How do you know I am of the Northern Men?”  

“Gandalf must have mentioned it.”  The lie came easy to her lips, which unsettled her.  He looked as though he didn’t believe her, but no protest came.  

They fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way to camp.  Once there, he found a spot at the bottom of a fairly thick tree and set her down.  

“Will you be alright to move in the morning?” asked the Ring-Bearer, concern showing in his delicate features.  

She smiled at him, touched by his concern, and nodded.  Even if she couldn’t, she’d find a way.  She wouldn’t allow herself to become any more of a burden.

Suddenly reminded of her earlier conversation with Sam, her gaze flitted toward the stout Hobbit.

“Who shall take first watch?”  Gandalf wondering aloud, looking first to the men, and then the elf, clearly expecting an answer from either of them. It was a surprise to them all when Sam and Anna both voiced their offer.

“Alright, Samwise Gamgee.  You may take the first, but then you must wake Lord Aragorn.”  He ordered.  Then looked to Anna with a stern, but gentle gaze. “I know why you offer, but you need your rest.  You are not used to a journey of this length.  If you do not wish to be a burden, you must rest while you can..”  

“If she cannot handle one day’s journey, then she should not be here.”  Boromir interjected.

Gandalf rounded on him. “If all you have are foul thoughts, then keep them to yourself.  She is with us because she is my charge, and will remain so until this task is done.  I suggest you allow yourself to get used to the idea.”  

“Then you should not have come either.  We do not have time to wait for her to gain her bearings.  She has been of no help to us thus far, and I doubt that will change.” Boromir announced, storming off to the very edge of the rocks.  He then went about gathering his things and leaning against another trunk.

She watched him go and continue to grumble to himself.  This was not the man she had read about.  The man she read about was hard, sure, but only because he wanted to protect his people.  This… grouch was not Boromir the Brave, Captain of Gondor, and eldest son of the Steward.  

“It will only take us another day to reach Hollin.  From there we take the Gap of Rohan, and continue on to Mordor.”  Gandalf announced to all, making sure everyone knew of their path.

Her head shot up.  A day?  That was it?  The journey from Rivendell to Hollin took a whole month!  How is it in two days, they would reach Hollin so soon?  

She shoved her way up the tree, leaning on it for support.  She gripped the rocks on her way to Gandalf to whisper to him, “How are we to reach Hollin in only two days?”  

“That is our route.”  He looked confused at being questioned by her.

“I know that, but Hollin should take weeks to reach.  We just left Rivendell a few hours ago.  Hollin is not that close.”

“And you know that from your books, I take it?”  He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes.”

“My dear, maybe this book of yours is not as true as you may think.”  He said, before walking off to Frodo.

Anna pondered that.  

Maybe he was right.  So why were some things changed, and others exactly the same?  It didn’t make sense.  

“You may want to listen to the wizard, Anna.” She looked at the elf who had spoken, and scrunched her brows in confusion. “You should take rest while you can.  You never know what the morrow may bring.”  With that, he left.  Still seeming as energetic as when they had first left, she noted with petty jealousy.

Deciding to just give in, she settled down and closed her eyes.  Sleep was bound to come easily with how exhausted she was.  She’d concentrate on how to deal with these sudden changes in the morning.

*************

A rough jolt brought her out of her deep slumber.  

“Wake up, Anna.”

She grumbled and rolled over, muttering, “Go away. S’not even morning yet.”  

“Anna, we must go.”  

“Five more minutes.”  

She heard a deep sigh. Then she was suddenly hauled to her feet, jolting a yell out of her.  Her eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of her surroundings.  

Oh.

“I‘m sorry, Aragorn.  I’m a little slow waking up in the mornings.”  She admitted, sluggishly bending down.  She  winced as her muscles screamed at her, and grabbed her boots.  She tugged them on and looked up. Most of the company was all ready to go, and they seemed to be waiting on her, as well as another who still hadn’t risen yet.

One of the Hobbits walked over, and kicked at the body still on the ground.

“Get up, Pippin. It’s time to go.”  He hissed at it, only to receive an answering kick.

“Pippin!”  He exclaimed, shaking him roughly, finally rousing the youngest Hobbit.

“Alright, alright, I’m up.  Are you happy now?”  He growled, his cheerful mood tainted at having been woken.  

“Do not dawdle, Peregrin Took!  We shall not wait for you!”  Gandalf chided as he continued to lead the way.  

“I have no doubt we shall reach Hollin at high noon!  No more dawdling you two.”  He cried behind him, allowing Anna to hear, even though she now walked beside Sam.  

Her legs seemed to cooperate, even though they were so stiff she could feel every muscle stretch with each movement. If anything, they hurt more than they did the day before, but she could walk without help. Small miracles.

She glanced beside her, noticing the Hobbit looked tired.  His posture slacked from the weight of the bags. Anna thought for about a second before asking, “Why don’t you let me hold those for  a while, Sam?  Just until we reach Hollin.”

The Hobbit looked surprised, but shook his head furiously.  “No, no, I can carry it just as well as anybody.”

She smiled slightly at the obvious show of pride which was coming from the Halfling. “I know you can, I just thought it might help to ease the burden a bit.  After all, I need to do something to haul my weight around.”  She offered, the small saying passing easily through her lips before she could stop it.  It was something her mother had stamped into her at a young age.  She would stand by that now, refusing to be useless again.  

The blond glanced at her, unable to decide whether he wanted to hand her the bag or keep it on his back.  A few moments later, however, the pack was shoved at her.

Smiling at him, she took it.  She held back a painful grunt as the full weight of everything the Hobbit was carrying now rested on her.  

Anna then saw Sam hurrying to catch up with Merry and Pippin.   The Hobbits were chatting excitedly with Boromir about a possible training sessions with their swords.  

“That was very kind of you.”  The Ranger beside her complimented.

She shook her head. “I’m just helping out where it’s needed. It was obviously paining him. I just lightened the load.”

“It was a favor you needn’t have offered.  Sam would have carried that by himself the whole way without any complaint.”  

“He shouldn’t have to though, not when my back is free.”  

He seemed to let it go, and let her walk in peace.  

The hours seemed to drag on, but she allowed herself to be distracted by the streaking colors across the sky as sunrise fully hit.  It was gorgeous.

The skies she’d seen just didn’t compare to all this.  The blues mixed in with a sudden splash of yellow, orange and dark pink was breathtaking.  Once the sun had completely risen, the sky was a clearer blue than she had ever witnessed.

It was then that she slowly became aware of the wilderness around them.  The trees were sparse, now that they had reached a rockier peak.  The sounds of the wind were passing around them.  The smell of the fresh air, free from pollutants, was enough to distract her from the soreness in her muscles.

She shook her head.

She could not get too comfortable, or else she would lose sight of her ultimate goal. She needed to concentrate on somehow returning home.  To green fields, rocky shores, and her family.  That was what she need to be focusing on, not the nature that surrounded them.  No matter how beautiful it was.

Moments later they had arrived at Hollin.  She was relieved when Gandalf announced they would be resting again before venturing to the Gap of Rohan.

She quickly walked over to the rest of them, keeping in mind not to sit down again.  She dropped her pack gently,  and helped Sam take out the cooking utensils he needed.  Once the Hobbit set to cooking, she turned her gaze toward the others.  Merry and Pippin were listening intently to what Boromir was trying to tell them of swordplay. It was quite entertaining to see their faces as the man tried to explain parrying and footwork.  Frodo seemed to enjoy just sitting down, and Legolas had taken to watching the horizon.  She gave the sky ahead of them another look, taking in the mountains in the distance.

That’s when she remembered.  

The Crebain were coming.


	3. Caradhras

They wouldn’t appear until nighttime.  She didn’t have to worry about anything until after the company set-up camp.  

Once they had settled down for a while, she watched Boromir attempt to teach Merry and Pippin some swordplay - with the real swords.  She noticed Aragorn watching as well. He looked at the three sparring with a small smile and a  pipe clenched between his teeth.  

“Good!  Very good.”  Boromir praised Pippin as they continued.

She couldn’t help but smile at the obvious joy on the Hobbit’s face.  She was also surprised at the man who caused it.  She would have thought Boromir would cater to no one.

The way he had acted with her throughout their journey seemed to speak for itself. Perhaps she was wrong.

“Move your feet!”  Aragorn advised.

She watched as Pippin quickly did as he was told, adjusting his stance as well.  He was doing well.  Anna knew eventually, Pippin would have to use this knowledge to protect himself.  The battle in Moria loomed it’s way into her mind.  

She hadn’t brought any weapons with her, and there were no spares to practice with.  She bit her lip.  How would she defend herself once the orcs attacked?  

Her thoughts were suddenly shattered as a pained cry cut through the air.

“Sorry!”  She heard Boromir exclaim.  

Anna look up just in time to see the Captain get tackled by two Hobbits.  

“For the Shire,”  shouted Pippin. “Hold him! Hold him down, Merry!”  

Aragorn quickly went over to help the man.  “Gentlemen, that’s enough.”  Anna watched as they grabbed his ankles and flipped him backward and to the ground.  

She let out a barking laugh.  He should have known they would try something against him as well.  Putting a hand over her mouth, she attempted to stifle her laughter.  When that seemed no use, she turned away, hiding her grin.  Her eyes then caught a dark figure in the distance.  She leaned forward as she trained her eyes on the mountain.

The black mass was growing bigger.  No, she realized.  It was getting closer.

They were here!  

In a rushed panic, she ran over to Gandalf.

“Gandalf!”  She cried, as she reached him.

“What is it?”  He asked, alarm sprinkling his tone.

“We must leave! Now!”

She knew there were many rules she was breaking.   She also knew what would happen if Gandalf realized Saruman knew the path they were taking.  

Moria was the one place she wanted to avoid.  Gandalf the Grey was more personable than Gandalf the White.  She wasn’t sure how the powerful wizard would take to her.  If she could avoid Moria, and thereby the Balrog, that would be best.

“And why is that?”  He wondered, peering at her.

“What is that?” Sam Gamgee inquired loudly.

Anna whirled and saw the swirl of black coming closer by the second.  Gimli tried to pass it off as nothing, but Boromir was having none of it.

“It’s moving fast,” he said, picking himself up off the ground.  “Against the wind.”

Her eyes closed in dismay.  It was too late.

“Crebain!  From Dunland!”  Cried the elf, as he rushed back to them.

“Hide!” The Ranger shouted.  He began shoving their things under brush and rock.   Aragorn them moved swiftly, and grabbed Frodo,  stuffing him underneath a boulder with himself as well.  

Anna panicked.  Where would she go?  There was nowhere else for her to crawl under.   Every spot was now occupied.  

She had glanced up, able to make out little winged shapes among the black, when a rough hand dragged her down by her hand.  Almost pulling her arm out of it’s socket, it trapped her between their body and a low hanging branch.  She heard cawing overcome the area, and didn’t dare move.

She closed her eyes, silently begging whatever higher power there was, to not let her have been seen.  She didn’t want to think about the idea of Saruman knowing she traveled with the RIng-Bearer himself.

Once the animals had circled the area twice, they fly back the way they came.  

She opened her eyes as she felt the person behind her shift.  Anna went to move, but another hand stopped her.

“The next time I won’t be saving you.” Boromir’s voice cut through her like glass. “Remember that.”

He roughly nudged her away from him.   Allowing her to roll until he was able to step out from under the brush.   He then stepped toward the younger Hobbits, asking if they were alright.

She stayed low to the ground, her heart pounding.  Did he just threaten her?  She wasn’t sure, but it definitely wasn’t pleasing to hear, even if his tone had been lighter.  

A hand came into her line of vision, but she ignored it. Instead,  she pushed herself up and brushed away the dirt and leaves that had clung to her.  

“Are you alright, my lady?”  Said Aragorn, looking from her to Boromir, clearly concerned.

She schooled her features and gave a stern nod.  “I’m fine, thank you.”  She glanced back at the man who was now ruffling the hair of Pippin, and accidentally caught his gaze.  She looked away and walked toward Gandalf who was just getting to his feet as well.  

“Spies of Saruman.” Gandalf said, almost spitting out the words.  “The way South is being watched.”  He turned to the great, snowy mountain behind them, “We must take the Path of Caradhras.”  

She groaned with self-pity.  She hated snow more than anything.  She hated mountain climbing almost as much.

 

It took them another hour to reach the paths they sought.  The hour was hard, as she was still carrying Sam’s pack. The halfling tried to take the bags back, but she just told him to concentrate on trudging Bill through the snow, and marched off.  

She was regretting that now.  

The snow was packing, which was a good sign.  Every so often, though, she’d sink down to her knees, and have to somehow climb out.  

Her fingers were already frozen to the point where she couldn’t feel them anymore.   Snow also kept creeping it’s way up her sleeves.  Her boots and pants were keeping the snow out for the most part, thanks to the snow-proof material of the elves.  She lifted her hands to her mouth and blew hot air on them. They were already turning purple, and she didn’t like the idea of losing her hands to frostbite.  

She was so focused on her hands, she didn’t see the Halfling in front of her tripping over himself.  He hit her ankles, causing  her to fall into the snow facefirst.  

She got up, trying to ignore her hands protest at being forced to move.  She turned to Frodo, wanting to help him up.   When she laid eyes on him, she noticed he was scrambling around his neck for something.

He looked up, past her, to the sight of Boromir picking the Ring up out of the snow.  

“Boromir!”  She heard a harsh yell behind her.

Aragorn had come up from behind them, and was now glaring at Boromir.

Boromir gazed at the Ring with awe in his eyes. “It is a strange fate, that we should suffer so much fear and doubt, over so small a thing.” He whispered, his hand drifting toward the golden band. “Such a little thing…”

“Borormir!”  Aragorn cried, just as Anna was certain Boromir would rip the Ring off it’s chain.  “Give the Ring to Frodo.”

The man walked past her, and handed Frodo the silver chain.  Who snatched it out of his hand, still looking at the Gondorian with caution. Boromir chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“As you wish.  I care not.”  

He caught her gaze as he walked by, shocking her by not hiding his own disconcertion.  Whether it was from the Ring’s grip on him, or his own weakness to it, she didn’t know.  She wanted to make sure Frodo was alright, but halted when she saw Aragorn release his grip from his sword.

She turned away once the Ranger’s eyes met her own. Rushing through the snow as fast as she could,  she tried to comprehend what she saw.  

Boromir almost took the Ring.  Aragorn would have fought Boromir if he had.  Borormir would have lost.  

What happened to the heroic Men of the Fellowship?  What happened to the loyalty felt by all?  Yes, she knew Boromir would eventually succumb to the Ring’s influence, but it was not his fault.  It was not so soon as this.  The way Aragorn looked, prepared to draw his sword on the other man, made her feel apprehensive.  Aragorn was just and stern in the book.  He was not readily prepared to betray all the Fellowship stood for as easily as the man before her.

As they trudged through the snow, it was clear they were delving deeper into the mountain. The wind whistled loudly in their ears, and the snow seemed to grow by the foot every step they took.  

It was then agreed that as the Hobbits kept getting stuck in the snow by themselves, Boromir and Aragorn would carry them.  Aragorn grabbed hold of Sam and Frodo, while Boromir took Merry and Pippin.  

As Boromir passed by her, he muttered, “Do not fall again.  You will be lost in the snow and not even the wizard would be able to save you from that.”  

She raised her eyebrow at the most friendly thing he had said to her the entire journey.  She clutched the straps of the bags, dipped her head against the wind and walked on.  

The wind continued to pick up, as impossible as it seemed.  It was already enough to shove her down and sway her to the right. Only to steal her breath from her.

They were now waist deep in snow, with Gandalf attempting to clear a path with his staff as they went.  She watched as Legolas walked over the snow banks with jealousy in her eyes.  She stopped when she saw Legolas turn his head away from the mountain and into the wind itself.  Was he crazy?

“There is a fell voice on the air!”  He cried.

“It’s Saruman!”  Gandalf yelled, turning back to the rest of them just as a crack was heard above them.

She looked up just as massive chunks of snow fell upon them.  She jumped out of the way, gripping the ice-cold stone of the mountain itself and hung on as it seemed to shake.

“He’s trying to bring down the mountain!”  Aragorn shouted over the thunderous noise.  “Gandalf, we must turn back!”  

She was inclined to agree with him, since the mountain was already close to killing them before the White Wizard had interfered.  

“No!”  Gandalf insisted, turning toward the echoing sound of the White Wizard chanting.  

_Wake up, cruel Redhorn!  Let your horn be bloodstained!_

The words echoed in her ears as they did in her mind, again with the language laced within.  

Gandalf then raised his staff high and shook it at the sky, shouting the same language at the mountain.

_Sleep, Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath!_

The trembling of the mountain quieted for a second.  Then Saruman’s voice boomed around them and grew more insistent.  The vibrating turned to rocking, as she heard what sounded like a wave come down around them.

 

White was all around her, and she couldn’t see.  She tried to inhale, but snow filled in her mouth. She couldn’t breathe.  She was drowning and freezing to death at the same time.  Her panic bloomed into terror as she tried to rip her way to the surface. Her fingers felt as if they might fall off.  She kept digging, ignoring the blood dripping down as her skin finally gave way to the harsh elements.  She finally sees sky, and shoved her hands through, pulled herself up. Anna gasped for air as she looked around.  

“We must get off the mountain!”  Boromir cried, trying to keep Pippin and Merry from falling.

“Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!”    
She could hear the sloppily hidden advantage.  He was insane if he thought Gandalf would allow the Ring near Gondor.  

“The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!” Aragorn argued.

Isengard, the realm of Saruman.  Yes, she silently agreed, they’d best stay away from Orthanc.  

“If we cannot go over the mountain, then let us go under it!”  Gimli spoke up.

Anna felt cold dread fill her stomach.  She knew what he was talking about before he even uttered it.  

“Let us go through the Mines of Moria.”

She looked to Gandalf, who looked as if he was as reluctant to go there as she.  

Anna heard whisperings then.  A deep, strong voice penetrated her mind.   The words were distant, as though calling to her from afar.   

“Let the Ring-Bearer decide.”

All eyes were instantly on the Halfling, whose choice would decide whether they lived past the night.  

“We cannot stay here!”  Gondor’s Captain insisted, “It will be the death of the Hobbits!”

Anna looked at the four of them.  She had to admit Boromir was probably right about that.  They looked as frozen as she felt.  

“Frodo?”  The wizard urged, seeming to already to know his choice.

“We shall go through the Mines.”  

Anna bit her lip as Gandalf sighed.  

“So be it.”

 

Climbing back down the mountain was harder than it would seem. They had to keep digging themselves out whenever their feet fell through. Gimli had to pulled out of his own hole more than once, grumbling the whole time about the cold.

“Dwarves were not meant for snow!  If this were mud, I would be pulling you out of the ground!”  

Things got easier as they descended and the temperature continued to rise. She already felt the pressure lessening in her ears and chest.  

Once they had finally touched grass again, Anna felt the feeling return in her arms, but not her hands.  She shook them out, not wanting to pay them any attention until they reached the mine door.  

“Anna!”  Cried Pippin, who had a blue tint to his lips.  He sauntered over, worry in his eyes, as he grabbed hold of her hands.  “You’re bleeding!”

“What?”  said Frodo, walking toward her as well.

She looked down and was surprised to see red-brown, crusty streaks down both hands.  She just blinked.  She couldn’t quite see where the damage was done.  Just the dark colors.

She had forgotten about how damaged her hands were from her panicked frenzy earlier. The tips of her fingers were mangled, and she was surprised to see three of her nails were missing.  

“Let me see it.”  Ordered Aragorn, who held two pieces of torn cloth in his hand.  Pippin let go of her as the man took hold of them, examined them quietly, then begun wrapping them.  “We can clean them when we get to a water source.  For now, they should stay wrapped.”  he said as he loosely bound the materials over her hands.  “Are you injured anywhere else?”  

She shook her head, still mesmerized by the clotted blood.

“Alright, then.  Try not to disturb the wrappings, and breathe on your hands. It should help to warm them faster.”  He told her before moving onward. She followed close behind.

She did as she was told, as quietly as she could.  Keeping in mind not to rub them.

“We need to get to a water source so we can clean her wounds.”  She heard Aragorn tell Gandalf. The wizard looked back at her and nodded.

“We have been held  back enough already!”  Boromir exclaimed.

Although, this time, she agreed with him.  

She didn’t want to stop.  She could barely move her hands from stiffness, but that had nothing to do with her ability to walk.

“Boromir’s right.” She said quietly. “It’s no trouble.  We don’t need to go out of our way.”  

Aragorn turned a glare on the other man, then looked to her.  “My lady, your hands have been damaged by the cold.  If they are not warmed soon, it may be irreversible.”  

Her eyes widened in shock.  She looked down at her hands again.  She still couldn’t feel them completely.  There was small, distant pain beginning to pulse throughout her palms.  She had seen the wounds before Aragorn had covered them.  She knew the pain should be worse than it was.

The Steward’s son let out a sigh. “Very well, then.  Aragorn shall care for her.  We should continue on though.”  

Gandalf shook his head.  “We have all grown weary from the bitterness of Caradhras.  We shall all,” he looked to Boromir sternly, “go look for water.  We can refill our pouches as well and warm ourselves by a fire.”

They carried on, wandering for a while before coming to a fair-sized stream.  Aragorn stated it would do.  He set to work on filling a pot with the water, and putting it on to boil.

They all sat around the fire, except Anna.  Aragorn told her to stand by the water as the dry heat from the fire could damage her hands further.

So there she stood.  The pack taken from her, as Aragorn didn’t think it wise for her to carry something at the present time. He told her not to touch anything, either.  He took the bandages from her and had tossed them into the pot, saying it would sterilize them when he chose to use them again.

As she looked at her hands, she couldn’t quite believe what she saw.

The skin on her palms was torn.  Raw, superficial cuts littered the area.  Her fingers and fingertips were another story entirely.  They were extremely red and swelling.  Portions of them were white, and the tips of her fingers were just bloody skin.  She was beginning to feel where her fingernails were gone, a small pain shooting down her fingers and up her forearm.

Anna didn’t understand how she could have ended up like this.  Not exactly in this predicament, but just the overall situation.  In the two days she’s been here, she had to be woken by Gandalf,  chastised more times than she can count by Boromir, and now Aragorn is helping take care of her for the second time.

She wasn’t used to being coddled.  She was used to just going about her day with none the wiser.  She was okay with that.  More than okay, she prefered it.   She didn’t talk to her brother all that much since they were kids.  His stints in and out of rehab, and the constant sickness caused by withdrawal, kept her away from him.  It was painful to watch.  Her mother was always busy.  Trying to keep their bills paid, food in the house.  Mostly she was trying to keep her brother from overdosing every chance he got.  As far as she was concerned, if her daughter wasn’t dead, dying, or crying, she could be left alone.   

So when all of these strangers seemed to be actually concerned for her safety, she just felt overwhelmed instead of grateful.

A shake of her shoulder distracted her from her inner turmoil.  Aragorn was in front of her, carrying the pot with the steaming water and bandages.  

“I’ve felt the water,  you won’t have to worry about it burning you.  Although it may feel hot, as your skin may be more sensitive now.”  He said, guiding her to a rock.  

He  set the pot down between them, and got to work. She held her hands out and watched.  He cleaned both hands, being mindful of the damaged skin, and let the water run over them.  Once he was satisfied with that, he set about taking two more bandages.  He then re-wrapped her hands, covering from tip to wrist.  

“I think that will do.”  He said, helping her up by her elbows, and took the pot to dump it in the dirt.  

“It figures you’d be the one to get hurt again, eh?”  said Sam, packing the pot Aragorn handed him back into his bag before hoisting it up on his back.  

She couldn’t tell if he was serious or just teasing her so she shrugged and walked away.  

They then went on their way toward Moria.  Their route not that far off from before.  Anna guessed they were about three miles off, and would get there by the evening.

The walk there wasn’t eventful.  Just mindless chatter between the Hobbits, and bragging praise from Gimli about how grand Moria would be.

Anna winced at how excited the dwarf was.  She knew what they would find there.  She knew it was nothing but skeletons, goblins, and the terrifying, yet striking, Balrog.  The ginger held back a shiver just thinking of the creature. Eventually the cavern came into view, and the dwarf surprisingly picked up the pace.  She noticed Gandalf quietly speaking to Frodo, who looked apprehensive. She chose to look away, once both of them shot Boromir a cautious look.

As they all reached a thinner section of the cave, they had to walk along the cave wall.

“The walls of Moria!” Gimli cried excitedly. He knocked his axe against the rock in several different places, almost as if he were looking for something.

“Dwarven doors  are invisible when closed.” He said.

“Yes, Gimli!” Gandalf interjected. “Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten.”

Anna let out a small giggle as Legolas muttered, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” from behind her.

Gandalf was now over towards the end of the cavern wall.  He seemed to mutter to himself, while examining the strange markings that were engraved there.

Anna bit her lip.  What if she could tell him what awaited them all in the mine?  Would things turn out even worse than they will?  Or could she save them all the extra heart-ache and just tell Gandalf and be done with it?

Before she could decide, the white-blue glow of the door shone throughout the cave.  The drawing in the book paled in comparison to the real thing.  

“It reads, ‘Speak Friend and Enter.’”  Gandalf quoted, looking quite pleased to have found the door.

“What do you suppose that means?”  Merry interjected quite loudly.

The wizard turn to the Hobbit.  “Well, it’s quite simple.  If you are a friend, you speak the password, and the doors will open.”  He then turned back to the door, and began speaking in Elvish.

When nothing happened, Anna couldn’t help the slight snort that came out of her mouth.

“Nothing’s happening.”  Pippin said, grinning madly.

“I once knew every spell in all of the tongues of elves, men, and orcs.”  Gandalf muttered to himself disdainley.

Pippin stepped toward him.  “What’re you going to do then?”  

“Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! If that does not shatter them, and I'm allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words.” Gandalf chided.

Gandalf then set to work on opening the Dwarven doors.

They had all gathered by the door, when Sam’s pony started becoming anxious. Aragorn quickly took the reins, and explained to Sam that Bill would have to go.  They took the packs off the horse’s back, and set them on the ground.

“The Mines are no place for a pony.”  The Ranger said gently to the saddened Hobbit. “Even one so brave as Bill.”

“Buh-bye, Bill.”  

She moved over to where Sam was standing, and looked at the baggage left behind.  She would carry them.  She was capable of that at least.  

Aragorn urged the pony on.  “Don’t worry, Sam.  He knows the way home.”  

Without a word, Anna looped her arm into the straps. Careful not to disturb her wrapped hands, she lugged them over to Gandalf.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow at her.  “Are you sure you can carry that, Anna?”  He asked her, looking at the bags wearily.

“Yes.”  She said calmly. “My hands may not be of much use, but my back still is.  I will be just fine.”

A chuckle erupted from the Grey Wizard.  “Very well, then.”  He raised an eyebrow at something over her shoulder.

She turned and saw an angry looking Boromir glaring back at her. “What do you think you’re doing with those?”  

Anna stood, ignoring the trembling in her knees.  “I”m helping to carry them.  I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours.”

“It is when we stopped not a half-day ago so Aragorn could tend to your hands.  And yet, here you are, using them against his advice.”

“I didn’t use them.”  Her voice wavered.  She didn’t deal with confrontation well at all.

“I used my arms to carry them, and I will use my arms to put them on my back when we are set to move again.”  

That seemed to blow the steam out of him. “Don’t lag behind then.  We shall not wait.” He said gruffly.

“I won’t. I promise.”  She said, hoping that would finally placate the man.

It seemed to work as he walked away from her after that.  She let out a sigh.  Would he ever stop picking at her?  Is this how Boromir truly is?  A bitter, growly man?  She didn’t like it one bit.

She noticed then that Frodo is standing behind her, looking at the doorway intently.

“It’s a riddle!”  He suddenly exclaimed after a few moments.

She blinked.  He figured it out.  How did he do that without any prior knowledge of Elves and Dwarves?

“Speak friend...and enter.” he turned to the wizard. “What’s the Elvish word for ‘friend’?”  

The Grey Wizard looked at him, _“Mellon.”_  He said slowly.

The doors opened.  Their depths completely obscured in darkness.

The all rush through the doorway.  Anna enters as well, albeit hesitantly.  Something was supposed to happen...and soon.  She just couldn’t remember what.

Light suddenly flooded the area from a crystal Gandalf placed in his staff.  

“Soon, Mr. Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves.”  Gimli gloated.  “Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone!”

They farther they walked, the more uneasy Anna felt.  Yet, she still couldn’t place the feeling.

“This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin, and they call it a mine!  A mine!”  

She heard a felt something hard give way underneath her boots.  She looked down.  A skeleton.  Her eyes soon found dozens of them, littering the ground.  It was a miracle she was the first to notice.

Until Boromir spoke up. “This isn’t a mine,” He said, dismay in his voice. “It’s a tomb.”

They all then looked around them. The skeletons covered the steps up ahead, all with arrows sticking out of them.  

Gimli ran up to one.  Once he saw the bones with his own eyes, his shout of denial rang throughout the cave.

Legolas approached a body.  He grabbed an arrow from it’s skull and inspected.  “Goblins.”  He sneered, throwing it away before notching his own.

She heard the scraping sound of Boromir and Aragorn drawing their swords.

“We make for the Gap of Rohan.” Boromir said,  backing out of the cave slowly. “Now get out of here!  Get out!”  

She turned on her heel, and was about to run out.  However, her eyes caught a tentacle wrapping around Frodo’s foot.

“Frodo!” She cried, reach for him, but it was too late.  

He slammed to the floor and was dragged back to the doorway.  He managed to grap the edge of the opened door, and let out a yell.

Sam rushed over, sword already drawn, and slashed at the limb. “Strider!”  He called, obviously having difficulty cutting the thick appendage. “Get off him!”

He eventually frees Frodo, who’s ankle was now raw and swollen.  His face was red as well, with small, wet rocks clinging to it.  Anna, Merry, and Pippin all ran over to help him up.  

“Aragorn!”  Merry cried, trying to get the Ranger’s attention a second time.  

Suddenly, a mass of tentacles sprang out of the water.  It slapped them all away from the Ring-Bearer and grabbed hold of him once more.  

Anna hit the ground. Instinct pushed her hands out in front of her, causing shooting pain to run up her arms.  She couldn’t afford to spare her hands a second thought, as Frodo was now being held in mid-air.  

There was shouting, and arrows flying. All Anna could do was watch as Frodo was dangled.

Boromir and Aragorn had made their way into the water and near the enormous creature.  She tried to keep her breathing in order, but when Frodo screamed she saw dots of color dance across her vision.  

Eventually, she heard Gandalf yelling for them to escape into the mines.  She instantly ran off.  She was the first one in, and hung back to make sure the others were following.  

Legolas shot an arrow at the octopus at Boromir’s behest.  It let out a groan and seemed to ignore chasing the Ring-Bearer for the moment.  Boromir then rushed out of the water with Frodo in his arms and Aragorn close behind.

Her eyes widened as she saw the creature quickly recover and extend it’s limbs toward them once more.

“Hurry!”  She screamed from the doorway, not quite daring to leave the safety of the cave.  

Once they were all in, the tentacles began pulling at the doorway.  They ran further in to avoid being caught, only to have the door cave in on itself.  

Anna stopped once her vision turned black.  She thought it was from her panic attack, but Gandalf quickly lit his crystal again.  She was crouched low to the ground, hugging herself as she remembered to count.  It was a trick she learned early on to help with her attacks.  She would count to ten over and over until she could get her breathing in order.

“We now have but one choice,”Gandalf said, leading the way further into the mines. “We must face the long dark of Moria.”  

Anna continued whispering the numbers as she stood to join them.  She couldn’t stop until she was done.  

“Be on your guard.”  The wizard continued. “There are older and fouler things than Orc in the deep places of the world.  Quietly now, it’s a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope our presence may go unnoticed.”  

Her mind conjured the image of the Balrog, in all it’s fiery glory.  Reading that scene had given her nightmares as a child.  

At the idea that she will indeed be seeing the horrific being in real-life, any control of herself was gone.

She suddenly found herself starting over, silently shaming herself for it.  

If she was this panicked over the idea of seeing the thing, how in the world was going to be able to face it?


	4. Moria

As they kept close to each other, they traveled through Moria.  There was no sign of any other living beings in the mines. Anna kept her arms wrapped around her, trying not to clench her hands around the fabric of her shirt.

She gave the wizard at the front a quick glance.  Should he know?  The question had plagued her for a day and a half.  She had another two days, then she must decide.  Her choice could change everything.

“The wealth of Moria lies not in gold or jewels,” the aforementioned wizard said. “But in Mithril.”

She followed the light of his staff and looked deeper, down the edge of the rocks. A silvery shimmer glinted off the reflection of light Gandalf’s staff gave off.  

As they continued on, she had to keep her footing in mind.  Lest she allow her gaze to stray too far, and trip over her own feet.

“Bilbo had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him.”  Gandalf continued.

“Ah, that was a Kingly gift.”  Gimli commented, seeming impressed.

She gave Frodo a glance behind her and smirked.  He was about to be amazed.

“Yes,” said Gandalf, “I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of The Shire!”  

She heard the intake of breath come from the Hobbit, and looked behind her again.  He looked shocked, not that anyone wouldn’t.  Being told a material you’re wearing is worth more than your whole homeland wasn’t a normal thing.

After that, they carried on for a while.  Anna couldn’t tell how long it had been, but the lack of sleep was starting to weigh on her.  Her legs felt like blocks of lead.  Her back burnt from the strain of carrying bags that weighed almost as much as she did.  

“We shall rest here for now.”  Gandalf said.  “After a few moments, we shall move on, and not stop until we reach the East Gate.”  

Murmurs of acknowledge came about, as they all shuffled their things and tried to relax for a few minutes.  

Anna set the bags down, and turned her attention to her hands.  

She glanced around, hoping to avoid being seen.  While no one was looking in her direction, she carefully unwrapped her right hand, careful not to allow the bandage to touch any part of the ground or rock wall.  

She gasped at the sight.  It was horrific!

The tips of her fingers were black and crinkled as the skin tried to mend itself back together.  Her palms were almost literally shredded.  She didn’t dare flex her hand, lest the wounds reopen.  

“Anna, are you ready to-”

She whirled around.  Sam stood there, mouth gaping at her gnarled looking hand.  She quickly tried to hide it behind her back, but he had already seen it.  

He walked away, while she tried to quickly re-bandage her hand.  Once that was done, she looked up to see Sam talking animatedly to Aragorn, with Gandalf listening intently. All three males looked in her direction, and she flushed.  

Aragorn made his way to her, and looked at her in a no-nonsense fashion.  “Let me see it.”  

She winced and slowly brought her hand around.  He took it, and unwrapped her sloppy work. His face gave no indication of what he thought of the wounds, now fully exposed.

“It’s healing nicely, I think.” He said. He wrapped that one up again, and gestured for her to give him her other hand.

She gaped at him.  He couldn’t be serious.  It looked terrible!

He nodded to himself as he took in her other hand, which looked marginally better than her right. “It could have been worse.  Keep them bandaged.  The movement should return to them in a fortnight. Use them as little as possible until then.”  

As he walked away, he went to grab the pack she had set on the ground but she stopped him.

“No.”  She insisted. “I can still carry them.”

He regarded her carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”  She would not be made useless over something as trivial as a hand injury.  

“If you need help, there is no shame in it, my lady. You were injured, as we all could have been.”

“I know that.  I also know it does not take my hands to allow me to carry one pack.”  She gnawed in her lip, hoping he would drop the subject and move on.

He seemed to acquiesce, although reluctantly.  He moved back toward the edge of their campsite, taking watch for the moment.  

She sat down slowly, and bent her legs back and forth.  She needed the rest, but she wanted to make sure they wouldn’t become stagnant again.  

“Do they hurt much?”  

She looked up to see Pippin looking at her hands curiously.  Would no one leave her be?

“No.” She said simply, hoping he would take the hint and go.

“Can you move them?”  

She shook her head again, looking away from him.  She knew she was being rude, but she needed space.  She had been around people for about five days straight.  It was not something she was used to.

“Can you even feel them, then?”  He pressed, choosing to sit down beside her.  

She sighed. “Not much, but enough to know they’re there.”  

“I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t use my hands.”  He chatted away incessantly. “I wouldn’t be able to smoke!  Well, I can’t smoke now since we have no Longbottom Leaf, that’s the best Leaf in the Shire, you know. I miss that.”  

He blabbed on, not really seeing if she was paying attention or not.  She figured he just needed to talk to someone, and since he wasn’t being that loud, she let him.

Eventually, Boromir came over. A small smile on his lips, as he watched the young Hobbit gossip away.  

“Come, Pippin.  Gandalf has called for us to be on the move again.”  He said, holding out a hand.  

Pippin instantly leapt to his feet and joined Merry as they walked.

Anna sighed.  The rest was barely that.  She bent over, wincing as her back protested the movement.  She made to slide the packs back on, but they wouldn’t budge.  

She struggled for a few more moments, until the Captain of Gondor huffed.  He then quickly slid them on her arms, allowing her to haul them on her back.  

She went to thank him, but he was already walking away without a backward glance.

They continued on.  Winding down staircases and across small bridges.  More than once they had to stop as Pippin had slipped on something.  

This was one of those times.

“Pippin!”  Merry chastised.  

Anna quickly went over, hooked elbows with the youngest Hobbit, and hauled him up.  “Try to keep an eye where you’re stepping.  There’s no shame in looking down every once in a while.”  She told him before letting go.

She went to walk on, but she noticed Gandalf had stopped their trek.  He glanced from right, left and right again.  

“I’ve no memory of this place.”  He said quietly.   

She wasn’t going to voice it, but she was secretly glad they had to stop.  Her legs were throbbing, and her back felt it was about to snap in half.  With a sigh, not waiting for anyone to tell her, she let the bags fall to the ground quietly and went to lean against the wall.  

She blocked out Merry and Pippin’s continued bickering and instead focused on Gandalf’s conversation with Frodo.

“He’s been following us for three days.” The wizard said, not acting all that concerned.

Her brows scrunched, trying to figure out who they were talking about.

“He escaped the dungeons of Barad-dur?”  asked Frodo anxiously.

Gollum. Even thinking the name caused a surge anger to course through her.  She suddenly didn’t feel as unlucky about losing fingernails when she thought of the Hobbit’s inevitable loss in Mount Doom.  

“Escaped,”  Gandalf echoed ominously, “or set loose?  Now the Ring has drawn him here.  He won’t ever be rid of his need for it.  He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself.  Smeagol’s life is a sad story.”  Frodo’s look of confusion prompted him further. “Yes, he was called that, before the Ring found him.  Before it drove him mad.”  

Anna couldn’t quite feel enough pity in her heart to feel bad for Smeagol.  She knew the story.  That didn’t mean she felt the way she was clearly intended to.  

“It’s a pity Bilbo didn’t kill him while he had the chance.”  Frodo said bitterly.

Anna found herself agreeing with him.  

“Pity?” Gandalf turned to the RIng-Bearer, disapproval plain in his tone.  “It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand.  Many that live deserve death and many that die, deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?”

Gandalf shook his head at the Halfling.  “Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgement. Even the very wise cannot see all ends.  My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play, yet for good or ill,  before this is over.  The pity of Bilbo, may rule the fate of many.”  

Fate.  It was something her mother lived by.  Anna wasn’t sure if she believed in fate itself, or if she believed that things just...happen when they do.  She looked to Gandalf, keeping in mind his own ‘fate’, in the depths of Moria.  If fate existed, then she would change it.  Gandalf didn’t have to die.  He could live, he could carry on.

She started forming a plan in her head. She could hear their voices continue, but she didn’t pay them any mind.

It had to be carefully thought out in order to work.  Once the Balrog showed, everything would happen faster than she would be able to keep up.

“Oh!”  Gandalf’s exclamation broke through her thoughts. He stood, causing her to straighten herself as he walked toward one of the entrances. “It’s that way.”  

“He’s remembered!” Merry said joyously.  

“No,” claimed the wizard, “the air doesn’t smell quite as foul down here.”  He turned to the Hobbit, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose.”  

They all moved to the entrance. Anna barely remembered to grab her pack.  Again, she struggled with it.  Just when she was about to give up, and call for help, she got an idea. Angling herself so the pack was resting against the rock, she slid down, while using the wall to propel it onto her body.  She was surprised to see it actually worked.  She smiled to herself, and looked on ahead.  Boromir was watching her with a look of approval in his eyes.  

Anna picked up the pace to catch up with the others.  

“Let me risk a little more light,” Gandalf said.

As the crystal in his staff glowed brighter, it revealed a great hall.  The columns had carvings that were reminiscent of Dwarven culture and runes.  It was truly magnificent.   

“Behold,” said Gandalf, “The great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf.”  

Sam gaped around him.  “There’s an eye-opener, no mistake.”  

Anna nodded, again taken-aback at how grand it was.  Her mind’s eye did not do it justice.  

“This is amazing!”  She breathed, unable to tear her eyes from the architecture.  

They continued to walk, being mindful of the noise their footsteps were making.  The structure of the hall itself allows for echoing to go on for much longer than normal.  Which mean it would carry on to whatever was still lingering in the mine.  

This was it.  Her chance to tell him.

“Gandalf?”  She whispered to him in front of her.  

“Hmm?”  

“I have to tell you something…”  She said, the hesitancy in her tone plain for the wizard to hear.

“Can this wait, my dear?”  He said, still paying attention to their surroundings.  “We are almost out of the mines, and must remain quiet if we are to remain undiscovered.”

“It can’t. You must trust me on this.” She said.  

Gandalf sighed.  “Very well.  What is on your mind?”

“Well, there’s-” She was cut off by Gimli’s exclamation.

“Gimli!”  Gandalf called to him, but the dwarf ignored him.  Instead, he ran towards a room on the right side of the hall.

They all followed, only to see the dwarf on his knees in front of what looked to be a stone coffin.

Gandalf moved closer to the tomb.  “Here’s lies Balin, son of Fundin,” He translated the runes on the coffin.  He sighed to himself, glancing around the room. “He is dead then, it is as I feared.”  

She looked at him, anxious to be on her way.

Gandalf handed his hat and staff to Pippin, which triggered another memory for Anna.  Pippin was the one who started this!  He knocked the skeleton into the well.  The echo it caused gave way for the orcs and the Balrog to know they were there.

“We must move on, we cannot linger.”  Legolas murmured to Aragorn, who looked like he agreed with the elf.  As did Anna, although for entirely different reasons.  

If she could somehow prevent Pippin from tipping over the skeleton into the well, maybe they could leave this place. With the whole Fellowship intact.  

She inched her way over to the Hobbit, who was looking around curiously. She could hear Gandalf reading from Ori’s book, but paid no mind.

“Pippin.”  She hissed at him.  

HIs fingers had just closed around the hand of the skeleton, when he whipped around.  “What?”

She watched in horror as the head of the carcass tipped backward.

“No!”  She shouted, shooting forward to grab the skull, almost missing it.  

She sucked in a breath as she was now dangling over the edge of the well, while she could practically hear the breathing behind her.  She slowly rose upright, and dropped the skull on the floor.  

Pippin looked at her in awe, but it was Sam who spoke.  “How did you know it would fall?”  

Before she had a the chance to answer his question, a creaking sounded behind her.  She turned, only to see the rest of the body falling down into the well. Jumping for it a second time, her ribs hit the corner of the stone, but her fingers missed the foot of the body.  She watched, mouth open, as the skeleton seemed to take its time bouncing off the well wall.  

The sound reverberated throughout the room and no doubt made its way to the rest of the mine as well. No one made a sound it faded off, making one last crash at the end.

“You fool!”  Gandalf scolded her, as he took his staff and hat back from Pippin.  

“Don’t blame her!  It was my fault.”  Pippin conceded.

“Well then, you are a fool of a Took as well!  Might as well throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!”  

She massaged her ribs as she glanced at the Hobbit.  He looked so ashamed she started to feel bad for him.

Then the drums started.

They all stared at the well in disbelief. There was no mistaking it.  

“Frodo!”  Sam cried, looking at his master’s sword.  

Frodo pulled out Sting only to show a blue-hue had taken to it.  

“Orcs!”  Legolas cried, moving to ready his bow.  

She panicked.  The battle!

Boromir ran toward the door, attempting to shut them.  He had to leap backward to avoid two arrows that narrowly missed his face.  

Aragorn then turned to Anna and the Hobbits.  “Get back, and stay close to Gandalf!”  he cried.

Anna looked to the Halflings, who were drawing their own swords.  She glanced at her hands, still wrapped up, and stiff.  Still… she couldn’t just cower against a wall and hope that no orc attacked her.

Boromir had successfully closed the doors, when Aragorn moved to help him blockade them with spears and axes.

“They have a cave troll…” He said wryly to the Ranger, but Anna heard it clearly.

She finally laid eyes on an axe that looked light enough for her to hold and swing.  She bent down and grabbed it, trying to ignore the pain that exploded in her hands.  Her wounds must be re-opening.  

In front of them, Gimli growled at the invading orcs  from behind the door.

“Let them come!  There’s one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!”  

The doors are repeatedly barrelled against, and finally a small hole is punched through.  Legolas shot an arrow.  An orc squealed, and Aragorn fires another arrow at the same spot.  More orcs banging on door caused it to give way.  Suddenly, a horde of orcs spilled through.

Anna re-adjusted her grip on her short ax and followed the Hobbits into the swarm.  

She slashed one, it screamed and tried to jab her with a spear.  Anna jumped back and to the side.  She then slammed her ax down on the spear, shattering it.  After that, she hit the orc in the face with the end of her weapon.  It was knocked down, but not dead. Just as she prepared herself to swing onto its neck, a loud crash and a bellowing roar makes her freeze in place.  

She looked up to see the cave troll smashing through the doorway, and making its way to Sam.  

Her lack of concentration allowed the orc below her to grab onto its remnants of weapon, and sliced a gash on her shin.  She let out a pained cry before swiping her ax across the orc's face, causing black liquid to spurt out.  It gurgled and fell back, as she slashed at it again and again.  Soon the orc's face was nothing but hacked bits of flesh.  She then moved on to the orc trying to sneak up behind her.

Its sword was longer than her ax, the span of it not allowing her to get close enough to hit it.  Just as she was slowing down from repeated dodging, it suddenly fell to the ground.  Sam stood in front of her now, frying pan raised and looked at her.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this!”  He said, before moving toward another orc.

Anna let out a short laugh before moving on.  As she was trying to find an easy target, she heard Aragorn’s yell.

“Frodo!”  

She spun around to see the cave troll try to get at the Ring-Bearer.  He was moving from one side of the column to the next, attempting to avoid the troll.  

She rushed forward, only to be beaten by Aragorn, who held a giant spear.  He stabbed at the beast, wrenching it further into its body, but the troll didn’t seem fazed.  It merely swatted at the Ranger, who flew into a column and was knocked out.  Frodo ran over, trying to shake him awake.  Anna then picked up a small spear. Knowing her aim was iffy at best, she attempted to throw it at the troll, only hitting the back of its thigh.  

The troll then pulled the offending metal out of his abdomen and thrust it at Frodo, striking the Halfling in the chest.  

Frodo tried to gather his breath, while Sam yelled for him, but he collapsed, the spear stuck under him.

“NO!”  She knew it was futile, but she charged at the troll anyway.  Her ax was raised, but as it turned around and roared at her, she froze.  It came at her, all the while Merry and Pippin stabbed at its shoulders.  She stumbled backward, tripped over a body, and fell to the ground.  Whimpering at the pain now emanating from her hip, she tried to scramble away, but it was too fast.  

Merry and Pippin continued their stabbing.  It finally swiped at them, grabbing Merry by his ankle.  He tossed the Hobbit away, who luckily landed on another body.  Suddenly, Gimli, Gandalf, and Legolas are attacking the thing all at once.  They each take a stab at it, and Legolas finally aims an arrow at the creature's mouth, and shoots.  The thing let out a low groan, a mix between a moan and a whimper.  It tried to grab the arrow lodged in its throat, but it fell to the ground, finally dead. Pippin, who still clung to it,  was flung forward.  

It was suddenly silent in the room as they watch Aragorn crawl his way over to the Ring-Bearer.  

Once he reached him, Aragorn hesitated at grabbing him, “Oh, no…”  He mutters, as he finally turns him over.

The abrupt gasp and groan coming from the Halfling caused them all to jump.  Sam rushed over to Frodo and looks him over.  The brown-haired Hobbit then sat up, clutching his chest.  

“He’s alive!”  Sam sighed in relief.  

“I’m alright.”  Frodo reassures the company.  “I’m not hurt.”  At that sentence, the Hobbit winced.

Anna knew he was lying.  She guessed that the Ranger beside him does too, having caught his skeptical look.  

“You should be dead!  That spear would’ve skewered a wild boar.”  The Ranger exclaimed.

f

Gandalf stepped forward, and said, “I think there’s more to this Hobbit than meets the eye.”  

Frodo glanced down, and opened his shirt, revealing silver-white metal beneath it.

“Mithril!”  Gimli gasped, shocked at the revelation. “You are full of surprises, Master Baggins.”  

They all seemed to relax.  Anna had moved to sit, so she could inspect the cut on her leg, when screeching sounded from the halls of the mine.  There were more orcs.

Gandalf looked to them.  “To the bridge of Khazad-Dum!”  

They all got up, Sam helping Frodo to his feet, while the Ring-Bearer held his ribs as he rose.  She ran over to them, grabbing Frodo’s other arm with one hand, while the other still held the axe.  “Let’s go!”  She cried, rushing Frodo near the front of the company with Gandalf, following behind him closely with Sam.

They ran as she looked around and up.  The Goblins were swarming all around them.

They sprinted forward until they were blocked by the goblins’ crowding around them.  They were soon surrounded and they formed a circle in response.  

Anna ignored her leg, and tried to focus on her hands, which were dangerously close to dropping her axe.  The orcs jibbed at them, chittering all the while.  

Then there was a deafening roar coming from a glowing archway.  Her eyes widened.  

The Balrog was here.  

It sounded again, causing the orcs to scatter.  Gimli gave a shout of glee, as if he were the reason the creatures were fleeing.  

“What is this new devilry?”  She heard Boromir mutter.  

Another second silence followed by another deeper growl.

She looked to Gandalf.

“A Balrog.”  He answered.  “A demon of the ancient world.  This foe is beyond any of you.  Run!”

They all bolted in the direction they were originally headed, Boromir in the lead this time.  

Anna ran behind Gimli, trying not to loosen her hold on her axe.  Soon, though, they had to skid to a stop.  The staircase they went to run down was missing a huge chunk.  She looked back at Gandalf, who was urging Aragorn to go.

“Lead them on Aragorn.  The bridge is near!”  Gandalf then locks eyes with hers, and in that instant she understands.

“Do as I say!”  The wizard shouts at the Ranger, shoving him forward.  “Swords are of no more use here!”

Aragorn finally submits and grabs Anna’s arm, as she was still staring at Gandalf.  

She blinks as her eyes begin to sting.  The redhead then sees Legolas leap over the small gap and look up at them.

“Gandalf!”  He gestures for the wizard to follow suit.

Once the wizard was over, an arrow flies at them from nowhere.  It almost hits Pippin, which makes Boromir spring into action.  He grabs Merry and Pippin, holding them under his arms, and leaps over.  As a result, a part of the steps fall off in chunks, making way for an even bigger gap between each of the groups.

“Sam!”  Aragorn grabs the Hobbit and hauls him over to Boromir who catches him with ease.  

Her heart leaps in her chest.  

The Ranger then reaches for Gimli, who also clearly cannot make the jump.  The dwarf raises his hand anyway, and says, “No one tosses a dwarf!” and jumps as well.  Barely landing on the steps, making Legolas grab what he can of the dwarf to help him over.  

Anna glances to Frodo and Aragorn, knowing she’s next.  She takes a deep breath and jumps.  She lets out a yell as she lands hard on her stomach on the stone steps.  Gandalf moves to help her up and she grasps her stomach, knowing she would have a bruise.  

They watched as Aragorn begins to haul Frodo over with him, when he instead pushes him back.  The steps Anna just leapt off crumble away, leaving a much wider space between the steps.  There was no way they would be able to jump now.  

Aragorn grabs hold of Frodo’s cloak.  “Steady!”  He calls, over the noise of the Balrog coming closer and sound of rock grinding against itself.  “Hold on!”

Another great bellow sounds, and a rumble causes the rock ceiling to fall onto the steps behind them, fully isolating them from moving anywhere.  

The pillar begins to sway, as the support it once had disappeared.  “Hang on!”  The Ranger yells.

Her breathing becomes erratic again as she watches Frodo struggle to maintain his balance.  If he falls, it’s all over.  

“Lean forward.”  Aragorn gives the Hobbits back a nudge.

The pillar seems to sway under their shifted weight.  Anna doesn’t believe what she’s seeing, but it’s indeed happening.

Legolas doesn’t seem to see the absurdity of it, as he hold his arms out. “Come on!”  

They both jump off as the staircase collides with the other, both being caught safely.  THey continue to run as the fallen pillar descends further.  

As they leave that cavern, they come across the hall directly before the bridge.  The surrounding area engulfed in flames, as the heat begins to bite at Anna’s skin.  

“Over the bridge!”  The Grey Wizard cried.  “Fly!”  

She ran faster than she thought she could.  She could hear the Balrog’s booming steps as she crossed the bridge, followed by the Hobbits.  How she got to the front of the group, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to dispute it.

She turned back, expecting to see Boromir and Aragorn hanging back with Gandalf, but she saw the wizard on the bridge.  Alone.

The Balrog approached him, his fire-whip cracking against the rocks.  She felt like she would collapse from fear.  Anna had never seen anything so terrible and menacing in her life.  

“You cannot pass!”  Gandalf yelled, raising his staff at it.

Just then, Frodo noticed what Gandalf was doing. “Gandalf!”  He screamed at him, however, the Hobbit didn’t move.

“I am the Servant of the Secret Fire, Wielder of the Flame of Anor!”  The crystal flared to a blinding white light that engulfed Gandalf.  “The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun!”  

The Balrog brought it’s sword down on the wizard, dropping it with a roar when the light emanating from Gandalf acted as a shield.

“Go back to the shadow!”  Gandalf commanded. “You cannot pass!”

It took a step toward him, raising his whip again.

Anna looked around.  Why weren’t they going to help him?  They should be helping him!

“You-shall not-pass!”  Gandalf booms, bringing his sword and staff in contact with the bridge.  

The Balrog takes another step toward him.  The bridge gave way under his weight, bringing the Balrog down with it.   Anna takes a breath, knowing what was about to happen, but her legs weren’t moving. She grits her teeth and tries again.  Nothing.

She watches as Gandalf makes to turn around, when the whip cracks again and wraps itself around his ankle.  He is thrown to the ground and dragged toward the edge of the bridge. Miraculously he is still hanging on, but barely.  

She runs toward him, dodging Boromir’s hand, which then catches Frodo in his similar pursuit.  

“No!” The Captain yelled.

Frodo cried the wizard’s name. She ran further, faster.  Maybe she could make it!  She could drag him onto the bridge!  He needn’t die!

Just then, two arms snaked themselves around her middle and hauled her backward.  

She screamed in defiance and watched as Gandalf struggled to stay on the bridge.

“Let me go!”  She screeched, her struggled developing into a frenzy of scratching and punching at whoever had a hold of her. “Let me go NOW!”

Gandalf seemed to give up on holding himself there, as he let his grip loosen a bit.

He looked at her, and then at whoever was holding her. “Fly, you fools!”  Then he was gone.  

Between her screeching and Frodo’s yelling of denial, she didn’t hear anything else. She felt whoever had her, pulling her away.  She wasn’t thinking, she just knew that Gandalf was dead.  

Her struggles grew too much for the man holding her back.  He grunted and locked her arms against herself.  Literally dragging her along.  

She heard another scream, but it was a faint echo beyond her own.  She vaguely saw arrows fly by her, and then she was surrounded by sunlight.

She was finally released, and she spun on her heel.  Facing Aragorn, who looked at her wearily, she jumped at him.

“Why weren’t you helping him?!  You were supposed to be helping him!  That’s how it happened!  You bloody bastard!  You were supposed to help him!”  

She hadn’t realized that she had started swinging her fists at him until he grabbed both of them.  

“Anna, calm down.”  He said, his face blank.  

“I will not calm down! You could’ve saved him!”

“No one could have.  The Balrog was too strong for us.  Gandalf was the only one to stand against it with any hope.”

Tears were falling hot and fast. “You could have saved him.”  She said weakly, whether that was to the Ranger or herself, she wasn’t sure.  

He gave her a hard look and let go of her hands.  He then looked over her shoulder.

“Legolas!”  He called to the elf, who was trying to come to term with what happened as well. “Get them up!”

Boromir turned to Aragorn.  “Give them a moment for pity’s sake!”  His voice wavered.  

Aragorn sheathed his sword.  “By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs.  We must reach the woods of Lothlorien.  Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!”  

He approached a tearful Sam, and hoisted him up. “On your feet, Sam.”  

The man then moved to get Frodo, but didn’t see him near the company. “Frodo?”

She looked around, wind blowing her hair in her face and drying the tears into stiff, salty trails on her cheeks.

The Hobbit was walking toward the edge of the rocks, and looked back at the added cry of the Ranger.  

She walked to him. “Come on, Frodo.”  She held a hand out to the Hobbit.  “We mustn’t let Gandalf’s death be in vain.”  

He took it and they walked back to the group, where Frodo then joined Sam.  

She knew she could not change something that was fate-driven to happen.  She also knew she risked the chance she might make things worse.  Her mother’s voice seemed to be ringing in her ears.  Fate will find a way to make itself known.  It always finds a way.  

That would not stop her from trying to save whoever she can. Especially now that Gandalf was already lost.  

Her eyes met with the Captain of Gondor’s head, his face hidden behind his hair.

They would get through this.  They would meet Gandalf again, and Boromir would be there to greet him again, too. She would make sure of it.


	5. Lorien

As Aragorn lead them toward the forest, she pondered what Gandalf’s death truly meant.  

She knew he would be coming back as Gandalf the White, and that he would be more powerful than ever.  That didn’t stop her from worrying about whether or not she would have any help hiding her secret from the others.  In her upset about the death of her one friend, she might have let her secret be known to the whole of the Fellowship.  Aragorn must have noticed her choice in words.   If so, would he ask her about it later?  

Another thought came to mind, one that had her alarmed all over again.  

It wasn’t a question if the Ranger would wonder about her.  Galadriel was going to be the real problem, and they were walking right to her.

She could not dwell on thoughts of the Lady of Lorien much longer.  She had other things to worry about at present.  For instance, her leg.  She winced every time she stepped on it.  The throbbing had increased since they left Moria.  Anna hoped she could inspect it further once they reached Lothlorien, and with privacy.  The last thing she needed was to be seen whimpering over a superficial cut.  

There was also Frodo to worry about.  He had been holding his hand to his chest every so often, especially when they needed to duck under some branches, or step over a fallen tree.  She also noticed he wasn’t breathing as deeply as he normally would.  She could hear the undeniable sound of his breath hitch every so often.  That told her what she assumed was right.  His ribs must be cracked, or at least heavily bruised, by the troll’s spear.

She let him wince a few more times before letting out a huff and walking over to him.  

“Frodo.”  She said quietly, making sure that no other could hear her.

He turned to her, and his hand immediately rested back on the area where he was almost stabbed.  “What is it, Anna?”  There was an obvious strain in his voice.

“I know you’re injured.  Probably worse than you realize.  You must tell Aragorn.”  She insisted.

He shook his head, and brushed a low-hanging branch out of his way.  “No.  I’ll be alright.”  

She began chewing on her lip.  “No, you won’t.  Please, just at least tell him you’re having trouble breathing properly and it hurts to move.  Please.”  

“How do you know all that?”  

“I’ve been watching you.  Trying to make sure you’re alright, and you’re clearly not.”  

He stared at her for a few more moments, before giving a defeated sigh.  “Alright, I’ll tell him.”

She held up a hand to stop him. “No, I’ll let him know you need to speak with him. It’s best not to move if you can help it.”

She walked briskly past the others. Completely ignoring the odd looks she received, and the weary one she got from Aragorn once she approached him.  

“Frodo is injured,” she told him, watching as his face took on an expression of alarm. “It’s nothing too serious, I don’t think, but you should still look it over.”  

He nodded and then rushed over the Hobbit, calling for the others to stop as he passed.

Taking the chance to rest her back a bit, she dropped her bag down, and let the axe she still held, lean against the trunk of a tree.

“That troll must’ve hit Frodo harder than we thought.”  Merry said, resting as well.

She nodded, and tried to sneak a glance at her leg without being noticed. She couldn’t see much.  Just that there was an obvious tear in her trousers, and it looked dirty.  The cut was obscured by her viewpoint.  Giving up on discretion, she bent down, and inspected it more closely.  

It really wasn’t that bad.  Not even that deep, just long and jagged.  It was far beyond a clean cut, but it wouldn’t require too much attention.  Just cleaned and wrapped to prevent any dirt from causing an infection and she’d be good to go.

She quickly took an end of her shirt and used her axe to cut a long strip off.  She then cut that strip in half.  She used one half to clean the cut as much as she could using a dry cloth, and used the other to wrap around her calf.  Tying the bandage was difficult since using the axe too viciously in Moria had done a number on her semi-healed hands and fingers.  However, after the fourth try she finally tied it, making sure she could fit the tip of her pinky finger under the cloth comfortably.

Once that was done, she stood up, and swung the bag back on, and grabbed her axe.  It was her only weapon for the time being, and she wouldn’t be giving it up.  

She heard the rustling of grass in front of her and looked up.  Aragorn looked slightly disturbed.  “Frodo’s ribs are badly bruised and I fear they might be cracked.”  He said in a hushed tone.  “Thank you for bringing it to my attention.  There’s not much I can do for him.  He needs something for the pain to allow him to breathe properly.”  

She didn’t know why he was telling her all of this, but nevertheless, she understood his predicament.  “Do you have any Athelas?”  She asked, wondering if that might help the Hobbit.

He sighed. “No.  If I did, it might have helped.”  

He turned back, and motioned to Sam to join them.  The Halfling came over, looking anxious.  Aragorn didn’t waste any time. “Sam, watch over Frodo. The troll’s pike did more damage than I feared.  He will need looking after.”  

Sam almost looked offended at the speech.  “Of course, I’ll look after him!  Gandalf told me not to lose him and I shan’t.  No troll is going to take him away, I won’t let it.”  His face took on a more determined, stern look, before he turned and went back to Frodo.  Anna watched as he helped Frodo stand and steady himself.

“I want you to look after them as well.”  Aragorn said to her, causing her to focus on him again.

She felt a little uncomfortable at the idea of being responsible for someone else.  “I’m sure Sam will take care of Frodo just fine on his own.”  

“I’m sure he will.  I’d like a second pair of eyes on Frodo, if you don’t mind.  We can’t risk his injury, he’s the most important of all of us.”  

She contemplated that, and couldn’t help but agree.  The fate of Middle-Earth rested on Frodo maintaining his health as much as possible. If he got too severely injured, who knows what would happen.  

She nodded her acquiesce and he moved back to lead the group on to Lothlorien.

After a few moments, with Anna keeping behind Frodo and Sam, Gimli approached the two.

“Stay close, young Hobbits!  They say there’s a great sorceress lives in these woods.  An Elf-witch of terrible power.  All who look upon her, fall under her spell…”  

Frodo then stopped and looked around, as if spooked. She quickened her pace, meaning to ask him what was wrong, but hung back once Sam asked him instead.  

Frodo seemed to come back to his senses, and Gimli now had the complete attention of Merry and Pippin.

“Well, here’s one dwarf she won’t ensnare so easily.  I have the eyes of a hawk, and the ears of a fox.”

As if to counter the dwarf’s claims, they were quickly surrounded.  Elves pointed arrows at them from all sides, and they froze.

One blond elf came into view, he had a smug look about him, which Anna wasn’t too fond of.

“The dwarf breathes so loudly, we could have shot him in the dark.”  He said.  

When she saw an arrow pointed at her head from the corner of her eye, she forced herself to remain calm.  Instead of focusing on her increased heart-beat, she tightened her grip on her axe and tried to get a count for how many were surrounding them.  

_Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduil._

The Elvish wormed it’s way into her mind again.  Each time it felt like an invasion, this time was no different.  Anna resisted the urge to shiver.  Her fingernails dug into her palms, the three absent nails reminding her that her hands were still ravaged from the cold of Caradhras.  

_Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lorien._

Her focus shot to the elf.  That was Haldir?  He didn’t seem at all what she had pictured.  

Haldir then turned to Aragorn who looked relieved to see the Elf.  

  
_And Aragorn, of the Dunedain.  You are known to us._

Aragorn bowed.  “Haldir.”  

She heard Gimli snort from behind her.  Before she could say anything he was already speaking with disdain. “So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves!  Speak words we can all understand!”  

She blinked.  He couldn’t understand them?  Why was she able to understand every word uttered, be it Common Tongue, Sindarin, or Black Speech and not the Dwarf?  She understood the languages of the Dwarves and Elves were different, but from how she could clearly understand their translations somehow, she assumed the same was possible for all the company.  Now it was revealed that was not the case.  

Anna bit her lip anxiously, knowing this would normally be something she would ask Gandalf about, but she would not greet him in his second life until later on.  Months would pass before she met Gandalf the White, and she wasn’t sure an inquiry like this could wait that long.  Something wasn’t right.  

“We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days.”  Haldir said.

“And you know what this Dwarf says to that?   _I spit on your grave!_ ”  The guttural language of Khuzdul echoed faintly in her head.  

Her eyes widened as the Elves nostrils flared in anger.  Aragorn gripped Gimli’s shoulder harshly.  “ _That_ was not so courteous.”  

Gimli grumbled and continued to glare at Haldir.

Haldir then turned his attention to Frodo, who looked to still be in pain and was surprised to be approached by the Elf.

“You bring great evil with you.” He told him. He turned to the rest of them, analyzing them quietly, before saying, “You can go no further.”  

Anna felt a flare of disbelief at his words.  He can’t be serious.  They clearly need help and he would turn them away just because of the Ring?  

She stepped toward him, trying to remember how these people spoke to their superiors, and Haldir clearly was hers.  “My lord,” she began, licking her lips before continuing, “The Ring-Bearer is injured, he needs care.  The rest of us are very weary, especially from what happened in Moria…”  She trailed off, feeling sick to her stomach at the knowledge that all eyes were on her now.  “We don’t wish to impose, and we wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

She took that chance to glance up at Haldir.  His eyes showed no emotion.

“No amount of thought-out words can convince me to allow such evil to brought into Lothlorien. I’m sorry, but my answer remains.  You go no further.”  He went to turn, but was stopped by Aragorn.

“Let us travel to a better place to rest so we might talk this through.”  The Ranger suggested.

Haldir looked skeptical at thought of being convinced, but nonetheless, nodded and walked off.  

Anna hurried to help Frodo up along with Sam, and they moved on.  She wasn’t sure what the point was for Haldir to tell them they could “go no further” if he was just going to escort them closer to Lorien anyway.  She supposed the connections Aragorn held with the Elves and the fact that an Elven Prince was with them helped the situation.

She turned back toward Gimli, noticing how he kept on guard, his axe not far from reach, and muttering to himself.  If he didn’t keep his opinion to himself this time, they could lose any opportunity to gain help from Lorien.  

Once she turned her attention back to the Hobbit leaning heavily on her, she realized that his breathing was still ragged.  She gripped his sleeve, and leaned toward him.  “Breathe, Frodo.  We’re almost there, but you must keep taking deep breaths.”

“I know, Anna.  But the pain…”  

She grit her teeth.  She knew it would be hard for him, but he had to keep breathing properly.  The chances of him getting a chest infection were increased so long as his breathing was irregular.  Chest infections normally wouldn’t be a problem, but they weren’t around areas that had hospitals.  She doubted he would be able to continue on the journey as they were if he were to get sick.  

“I understand, Frodo, but you must relax and breathe.  Do it slowly, in and out, and keep to a rhythm.”  She coached him throughout their small walk.  Inwardly smiling, she realized those words were almost a direct echo from what her mother would tell her during one of her panic attacks.

When they eventually reached their final location, she was surprised to see it resembled a stone gazebo.  

Once they arrived, Aragorn almost instantly pounced on Haldir, the two of them arguing in what she assumed was Elvish, but she wasn’t close enough to hear.  

She turned to Frodo, “How do you feel?”  She asked, concern lacing her features.  

He nodded to her, “Better.  Better than before anyway.”

“Good.”  She went to speak to Gimli, but Boromir’s voice halted her steps.

“Gandalf’s death was not in vain.”  He began.  She turned, expecting him to be talking to her, but realized he was looking at the Ring-Bearer.  She watched as he seemed to be trying to lift the Hobbit’s spirits as she had been doing the past half-day.  Frodo seemed slightly surprised at his words, but relieved nonetheless.  She smiled at the two, and accidentally caught the Captain’s gaze.  She quickly turned away, and started walking toward the Dwarf she meant to speak to before.  

“Hello, Gimli,” she started, sitting down on the bench he was standing by.  He grunted his greeting back at her, and didn’t say much else.  

She was nervous, although she didn’t know why.  She had no problem speaking to the other members of the Fellowship, why was the Dwarf so different?  Maybe it was his gruffness, or the fact that he seemed to argue every step of the way.  

The air was suddenly empty, and everything was quiet.  The arguing had stopped, and Haldir turned to them. “You will follow me.”  

The Fellowship instantly sprang into action.  They followed Haldir and the other Elves, traveling the rest of the night, until just after sunrise.  Once they entered Lothlorien, Anna’s anxiety hit full throttle.  She remembered what she told Frodo about breathing slowly, but it was hard to concentrate on that, when Gandalf’s warning was ringing in her head.  

How was she supposed to keep her homeland from being exposed to the one person in Middle-Earth who could literally invade minds?  It just wasn’t possible.  How was she supposed to react once the Fellowship knows she isn’t from their world, but another?   How would they react to the knowledge that Saruman was the one who sent her here, and the purpose for which is still unknown?

They all stopped at a grand staircase, the darkened forest somehow still having light shone all around. Her heart beat faster, and she suddenly felt the need to hold someone’s hand.

A few moments later, two elves descended the stairs, the very picture of perfection and grace.  

The female could only be assumed as Galadriel, she could be no other.  Her hair was a waterfall, her clothing shone brighter than the light from above, and her gaze pierced through the very soul.  Anna kept her eyes from making contact, knowing they were Galadriel’s window into her mind.

She heard Gimli’s surprised gasp as he finally took in the true image of the Lady of Lorien.  She heard the shuffle of clothing as both Legolas and Aragorn bowed to those before them, and the shifting of the Hobbit’s feet as the uncomfortable atmosphere suddenly dawned on them.  She refused to lift her eyes.   

“The Enemy knows you have entered here,” began Celeborn, his voice clear and rich, filled with purpose, “What hope you had in secrecy is now gone.” He paused, before speaking again.  “Eight that are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar.”

Silence overcame the Fellowship and Anna.  No one could quite find the words to explain why their wizard was absent.

“Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into Shadow.”  Galadriel spoke for the first time, and it was like an invasion of the senses.  

Legolas took the chance to speak.  “He was taken by both Shadow and flame.  A Balrog of Morgoth.  For we went needlessly into the net of Moria.”

She couldn’t help but feel that last statement was unfair.  They had no choice.  It was either Moria, or allow Saruman to crush them under the mountain.  It couldn’t be helped.  She glanced at Gimli, noticing his head was  down in shame.  He shouldn’t feel guilty.  It wasn’t his fault anymore than it was any of theirs.

“Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose.”  At those words, she lifted her gaze toward the speaking woman, while Galadriel was looking at Gimli reassuringly.   “Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dum fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin. For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands love is now mingled with grief.” At the last word, she turned her gaze to someone behind Anna.  

The girl could now hear Boromir’s labored breathing and she could feel him shake.  

She knew she should lower her eyes again, but before she could, Galadriel’s bright-blue eyes caught hers.  

You are not from this land.  The voice was not Anna’s.  

_You’re home is something you crave, and you would do anything to get back.  That may lead to not only your own undoing, but others as well.  Tread carefully, Saruman’s grip on you has not met its tightest.  Your destiny does not lie where you perceive it._

The voice was not unkind.  It was uncomfortable for Anna to feel as though Galadriel knew something about herself that she had yet to discover.

The warning about Saruman wasn’t something she was about to ignore either.  She knew she would eventually have to figure out why the wizard brought her here.  The very idea of facing him was not something she relished.  There was a reason why the Enemy valued him, he was formidable in whatever he attempted to do, and he was devious while doing it.  

Galadriel spoke the group normally now, inviting them to stay the night in Lorien and rest.  

Anna was pleased to see Aragorn immediately asked for healers for Frodo.  They whisked him off, Sam in tow, while the rest of them were given a guide to their temporary camp.  It was a beautiful area, just below the high stairs that Anna imagined must lead to the tops of the trees.  

She let her bag fall unceremoniously on the ground before sitting herself.  She bent down to further examine her leg and was glad to see water was readily available.  She wouldn’t have to feel guilty about using their drinking water.  Snagging a silver jug, she scooped some up.  Tearing another piece of her tunic off, she splashed some of the water onto it.  After taking off her boots and rolling up her pant legs, she unwound her makeshift bandage and examined her wound closer than she had before.

There were obvious signs of dirt and small rock still in the cut, and she tried her to best to gently clean it.  When that didn’t look like that was going to work, she bit her lip, and started scrubbing at it.  She didn’t allow her wrist or fingers any movement more than necessary, using her elbow for the motions.  Eventually, the wound was free from dirt and rocks, although the area surrounding it was rubbing raw and the wound was beginning to bleed again from her ministrations.  She then realized that she would have to re-wrap it to prevent it from getting dirty again, but she didn’t dare rip another piece from her shirt, lest it expose any skin.  

How was she going to do this?  

She then noticed Aragorn standing in front of her, looking at her wound.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were wounded as well?”

She sighed.  “It’s nothing.  Just a scratch, really.”  

He bent down to inspect it further. “You’ve irritated it more than needed.”  He glanced up at her, clearly disapproving with her methods.

She looked away, feeling like a child about to be scolded.

“Stay here.”  He said, before getting up and walking away, back the way they came.  

Anna huffed, but stayed where she was.  

Moments later, he came back, a pure white cloth in his hands, and silver bag in the other.  “What is that?”  She jerked her head in the direction of the bag.

“Herbs, they help with open wounds, and this,” He held up another small bag, “Is for your hands,”Aragorn explained, looking down at the bandages that still concealed them from view. “Use it twice a day, and you will have complete use of them again.” He said, concentration on placing the first mixture of herbs on her wound. Once it was covered, he then took the cloth and wrapped it around her leg several times, tying it firmly at the ends. “There.  Move your leg.”  She did, feeling comfortable with how it felt.  “It’s not too tight?”

Anna shook her head. “No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”  

The Ranger nodded and went to walk away but she stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.  He glanced at her hand, then at her pointedly.  She sheepishly let go and apologized. “Sorry, it’s just… How’s Frodo?”  

“He seems to be doing well.  Trust me when I say he is in good hands.”

He walked away then, and she was left to her wandering thoughts.  

She was eventually lost in daydreams about her homeland, and the area surrounding it.  First, she was laying in a field of green grass, looking at the clouds, trying to find shapes in them.  Then the coast, just walking along it, enjoying the fresh air.  After that came the quiet nature of the small town her family lived in.  

She was jolted out of her homesickness from the excited announcement by Pippin that Frodo and Sam were back.  

“Are you alright?”  The youngest Hobbit asked, well within his cousin’s personal space.  “What did they do to you?  Were there many of them?  What’s wrong with you?”  The questions shot off one after another, until finally Sam decided that his master had had enough.

“Alright, back off!  Give Mr. Frodo his space!”  He lead Frodo to their designated area and they both sat down.

She smirked when Pippin immediately scampered over to them, again, asking questions.  Frodo looked overwhelmed and only answered a few of them.  

“Pippin!”  She called to him, waving him over once he saw who was calling his name.  “Don’t you think Frodo ought to rest?  I’m sure he wouldn’t mind answering your questions later, or perhaps, you can ask Legolas or Aragorn, since they know this place much better than any of us.” She offered.  

Pippin grinned and went off, immediately bombarding the Elf of their group with the same questions he had asked Frodo.  She let out a small giggle once it was clear that Legolas had no idea what to do with the Hobbit.  He answered all of Pippin’s questions nonetheless.  

She sat back and tried to enjoy what rest they could have, when the air was suddenly filled with the most beautiful singing Anna had ever heard.

She saw Legolas look up in wonder, “A lament for Gandalf.”  

“What do they say about him?”  Merry asked, curiosity clear in his voice.  

“I have not the heart to tell you.”  The Elf replied, “For me the grief is still too near.”  

Anna had to agree with him.  Though, she tried to listen to them, to make out what they were saying.  She half-expected the Elvish to invade her mind, like it always had, but it never did. Nevertheless, she didn’t linger on it.  

“I bet they don’t mention his fireworks.  There should be a verse about them.”  Sam muttered, from his spot beside Frodo.  He suddenly stood, looking at all of them in earnest.  

“The finest rockets ever seen. They burst in stars of blue and green,or after thunder, silver showers…”

When Gimli began to snore, she glared at him.  Luckily, Aragorn shoved him, causing the dwarf to sputter, before she threw a rock at him.  She then looked to Sam, expecting, and hoping, he would continue.

He hesitated. “Came falling like a….rain of flowers.”  He sat back down to her surprise. “Oh, that doesn’t do them justice, by a long road.”

“Hey,” She whispered to him, “I think it’s really nice, Sam.  You should finish it sometime.”  She smiled, hoping he wouldn’t give up.  He returned her grin and went back to making his cot for the night.

She was surprised to see that it was that time already.  Merry, Pippin, and Gimli were all already asleep.  Legolas seemed to finally take a rest, and Sam was not far off from sleep himself it looked.  

She started to rummage around in her bag when she heard Aragorn speaking quietly.

“Take some rest.  These borders are well-protected.”  

She whipped her head around, expecting to see him talking to her, but he wasn’t.  He was sitting by Boromir, who looked worse for the wear.  Her face fell, knowing that whatever Galadriel had said to him had bothered him.  

“I will find no rest here.” Boromir began.  “I heard her voice, inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, ‘Even now there is hope left,’ but I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope.”  

She felt sympathy for him.  She knew what was pushing him to pursue the Ring.  Though she didn’t know what that kind of pressure was like, having a parent rely on you like that, she could imagine a little.  

He continued on, his voice growing bolder, with conviction.  “My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And now our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right and I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored.”  He grew more excited as he went on.  “Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The white tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. It’s banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?”  

“I have seen the White City, long ago.”  Came Aragorn’s only reply.  

“One day, our paths will leads us there, and the tower guards will take up the call, ‘The Lords of Gondor have returned!’”  Boromir continued, clear comradeship in his voice.

The men then fell silent, sitting there on the tree trunk.  She was suddenly afraid they would catch her eavesdropping, so she hurried to pull out the extra cot Sam had packed.

Once that was all arranged near where she was already sitting, she laid down.  She tried to sleep, but Galadriel’s words kept creeping back into her mind.  

Your home is something you crave, you would do anything to get back.  That may lead to not only your own undoing, but others’ as well.

What could she possibly mean by that leading to her and others’ undoing?  How?

Those thoughts kept her up all night, not allowing her a good amount of rest.

************

They were all roused from their beds too early for Anna’s liking.  Still, she gathered up her belongings and packed them away.  Throwing her boots back on, and rushed to meet with the others.  She noticed most of them were already lined up and ready to go.  

Merry turned to her, “Not a morning person, eh?”  

She just glared and grumbled at him in response.

“Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people.  May these cloaks shield you from unfriendly eyes.”  Celeborn said, as she was suddenly draped with a light green cloak with a darker green leaf clasp.  She quickly pinned it together, loving the comfort it gave her.  

It then grew quiet as Galadriel approached them, along with more elves.  They each held something in their hands.  

As she made her way down the line of the Fellowship, Anna’s stomach rolled once the elf neared the ginger.

She spoke to Gimli before her, “And what gift would a dwarf ask of the Elves?”

Gimli shook his head, not looking her in eye, “Nothing.” He then raised his eyes to hers, “Except to look upon the lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth.”  Galadriel laughed, smiling at him before turning away.  “Actually,” he said, “There was one thing…. no, no, I couldn’t.”  He muttered to himself,”It’s quite impossible, stupid to ask…”

She then moved on to Anna, who couldn’t help but keep her eyes downcast as well. “Anna, to you, I give a belt that will hold more than any other, while making your load lighter.” She said, while gesturing to another elf, who approached, carrying a belt that had two small axes secured on it, along with small pouches and silver links surrounding it. “Our smiths reinforced the axe you procured from Moria and a sister-axe was made along with it.  May they serve you as it has in the past.”  

Anna took the belt and secured it around her hips, noticing how they both seemed lighter than the one had seemed on the trip here. She felt grateful that she would not have to worry about it breaking, should she have to engage in battle again.  

The Elf then moved on to Aragorn, allowing Anna to join the others in preparing the boats.  

She noticed Legolas was holding something wrapped in leaves and string.  

He raised it to his nose. “Lembas!” he exclaimed, “Elvish waybread.  One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man.”  He told Merry and Pippin, who were waiting in the boats.  

“How many did you eat?” She heard Merry ask.

“Four.”  Pippin replied, causing  Anna to giggle again.  Of course they would eat that much!  They were used to many meals a day, and they’re now living off of one or two, if that.  

She looked at the small boats, canoes really, wearily.  She knew she was an efficient swimmer, but she doubted her skills would save her if she fell into the water with her bags and the axes strapped to her body.  

She felt a hand clasp itself on her shoulder.  It was Aragorn.  “Don’t be afraid, Anna.  These boats shall never tip.”  He said, before going about helping Frodo and Sam into one themselves.  

“Of course not.”  Anna muttered to herself, and then the next dilemma came to her.  Which boat would she take?

Legolas gestured to her, “Come, Anna, you may ride with Gimli and myself.  The others all have three in them.  We shall take one more, as well.”  

She sighed in relief at not having to ask someone, and climbing in-between the two.  Legolas used the oar to push away from shore as  she watched Galadriel hold her hand up in farewell, and they disappeared down the river.  


	6. Change

The Fellowship had been traveling down the river for a while before Anna’s legs started cramping.  She didn’t dare move.  Even if Aragorn and Legolas had both reassured her, she didn’t trust the boats.  

Still, the cramp kept getting tighter and tighter. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.  Her leg suddenly jerked out, surprising Gimli, who sat in front of her.  

“Watch your leg, lass!”  He warned her.

“Sorry!”  She gasped out, the pain in her leg not lessening.  She tried to massage it out, but that only seemed to make it worse.

She gritted her teeth, and felt her toes curl in on themselves involuntarily inside her boot. She tried not to move as much, but her body instinctively attempted to straighten itself out to help with the cramping.  

“Anna, what’s wrong?”  Legolas asked, still maintaining perfect balance with the boat.  She was almost jealous of his perfection.

“My leg is cramping.”  She ground out, trying not to cry out from the pain.  

She saw Gimli slide over a bit, and he gestured to the now empty space beside him.  “Stretch your limbs out on this,” he said. “No use in making you look like that the whole way.”  

Grateful for the offer, she slowly straightened her legs out, letting her heels rest on the seat.  She then put pressure on her heel, and instantly the cramp let loose.  She sighed and relaxed, murmuring a quick thank you to the dwarf.  

He nodded in response and the boat grew quiet again.

Eventually, Aragorn called for them to pull ashore, to rest while they could.  She helped Legolas heave their boat onto the rocks, and turned to Aragorn for what to do next.  

“Rest, Anna.  Everything is being taken care of that needs to.  All you need to do is rest.”  He told her softly, laying a hand on her shoulder for a second, then made his way further along the bank.

“But I can help!”  She insisted, not liking the idea of just sitting there, doing nothing.

“You will,” he said firmly, “By resting.”

She bit her tongue to keep from arguing with him further and walked away, even though she felt as though she were stomping.  

She plopped herself on a rock, ignoring the slight twinge that occurred once her backside connected with the stone.  She crossed her arms, and convinced herself she wasn’t pouting.  She was simply thinking.

The sound of the water lapping at the rocks drew her attention.  Her demeanor softened, realizing that the shore, with the rocks and the water and trees, was not unlike the shore by her home.  She padded her way to the edge of the water, and bent down.  

She was about to touch it, when her bandages came into view.  She glared at them, hating that they were preventing her from touching the water. Water calmed her, it allowed her to feel at peace. The water was normally very cold, but she insisted on swimming at least once a day.  Anna just realized it had been days since she had swam.  Her heart ached for it.  

She took a deep breath, and unwrapped her bandages, staring at her hands in awe.  The salve that Aragorn had given her back in Lothlorien worked like a miracle!  

Her hands were almost completely healed, except for the almost-healed scars that were now forming all over.   Her fingernails were also starting to grow back, albeit, not as they normally would. She turned her hand over and over, admiring the healing skin and noticing the black had all but disappeared at her fingertips.  

She carefully lowered her hand to the water, and glided it across the surface.  It didn’t hurt!  In fact, it seemed to soothe them, if anything.  She let out a small laugh, and began unwrapping her other hand, which was coming along much nicer.  

She then lowered both hands into the water, fully submerging them.  She wiggled her fingers, enjoying the feeling of the cold liquid surrounding them.  She couldn’t help but giggle, her joy bubbling inside her.  

“What are you doing?”  

She jumped, wrenching her hands out of the water, and looked behind her.  Boromir stared at her, looking at her hands with curiosity burning in his eyes.  

She instantly stood, attempting to dry her hands on her shirt, and stuttered out an explanation.  “I, uh, was just, well um,”  She couldn’t seem to get the words out.  She felt as though she were a child being caught doing something she was told not to. “Just soaking them in the water.”

“How are they?”  He gestured to her hands, stepping closer.

She looked down at them, still shimmering with droplets.  “Better. Much better.  Thank you.” She said, looking up at him again.

He nodded. “Good.”  

They fell silent, and Anna wondered if she should just make her cot near the edge.  She looked at him again, and before she could stop herself, she was speaking.  

“I heard you.”  

He regarded her with surprise. “Pardon?”

“Before.  With Aragorn.  I heard you.”  She bit her lip as his face darkened.  

“You heard what that witch put in my head.”  He said bitterly.

She nodded.  “You can make your own destiny, you know.  Nothing is set in stone.”  She was well aware that she was also telling herself that, as well as trying to reassure Boromir. She could almost feel the determination to not let him die, set in her bones.  

He let a small smirk spread.  “You are not a believer in fate?”  

She shook her head. “No.  My mother was, is,” she corrected, ashamed at already having thought of her family in past tense.  “She always told me that fate had a way of making itself known.  But I don’t believe that.”  She looked up at him.  “I believe that there are many paths to be taken, and you can choose which one.  You can even veer off your path to make a new one, should you try hard enough.”  

His smirk softened into a genuine smile.  “It seems I have underestimated you.”

Her eyes widened at that statement. “No, no.” Anna insisted, waving her hands at him in earnest.  “I’m still learning, and barely of any help, unless it involved carrying something.” She gestured to the pack that she had abandoned by the rock she sat on earlier.  

“That was true,” he said, “In the beginning.  Now you are just as much a part of this Fellowship as the rest of us.  Gandalf would have been proud.”  

At that, she couldn’t help but beam at him.  HIs words uplifted her in a way she hadn’t felt since she came here.

“Thank you,” she replied softly, wanting him to know how much his words meant to her.  “I needed to hear that, I think.”

“It seems we all could use some inspirational words tonight.  You are not the only one in doubt.”  He frowned and broke eye contact.

She tried to catch his eyes again, but he seemed determined to glare at the rocks.  “Remember what I said before, Boromir.  We make our own fate, and we can unmake it.”  

He nodded back at her, bowing just a little, before venturing off further down the bank.

There was sense of foreboding that she couldn’t place, when she suddenly saw her brother before her, instead of the Captain of Gondor.  Kade is an addict though, she told herself.  She also realized that in his own way, Boromir was too, as she witnessed him staring at the jewelry hanging around Frodo’s neck, before shaking his head and walking away.  

********

Remarkably, Anna was one of the first to rouse from sleep. She looked around and noticed that none of the Fellowship were awake, save Legolas and Aragorn.  The sun was barely peeking over the mountains and the air still had a crisp sting to it.  

She sat up, stretching and yawning her sleep away, and decided that she might as well pack since Aragorn was likely to wake the others soon.  

She packed her stuff away in record time. She then wondered if she should start a fire, and begin cooking their breakfast, but Aragorn told her that it wasn’t necessary.  The Lembas bread should be enough to fill them for another days journey on the river, and they were to walk to Amon Hen and on, toward the Gap of Rohan.  

She had to question the Ranger’s route since he was adamantly against it when they were atop Caradhras, but she kept her tongue.  

Instead, she then went back over to her spot by the water, and continued playing in it, in an almost childlike manner.  She hadn’t noticed anyone near her until Legolas’ boots were suddenly there.  She looked up, and he looked amused with her antics.

“Is the water helping your hands?”  He asked.

She blushed and shook her head. “No.  I just miss it.”  

Now he looked confused. “You miss the water?”

Anna nodded, “Yes, I miss the water. Back home, we had an entire sea to swim in.  I used to swim all the time, but now…”  She drifted off, the thought of never being able to swim again going through her mind.  It was painful to think about.

“You wish to return to your homeland?”  Legolas said, looking at her as if it was most obvious thing in the world.

She was surprised. He knew, and yet, he wasn’t really asking the questions she thought he would.

She nodded at him, and went back to playing with the water’s surface.  “I miss it terribly.  I miss my family, I miss the land, I miss all of it.”  She had to bite her lip to keep it from quivering.  Tears began to sting her eyes so she blinked them away.  

“Legolas, Anna!”  Aragorn called to them.  “We must get moving!”

She sighed, and moved to help the others back in the boats.

They were traveling down the river for quite a ways, when she felt the boat jerk to the right.  Startled, she looked behind her, as Gimli hadn’t been the one who moved.  It was Legolas.  He was almost glaring at the shore on the other side of the river.

“What is it?”  She whispered, almost afraid she could be heard by whatever he was staring at.

“I do not know.” The Elf was clearly concerned with whatever he sensed.  

She glanced to a little toward her left, looking back.  The Captain of Gondor was concentrating on making sure to row straight.   His Hobbit charges were chatting with each other again, almost animatedly.

She knew the moment for her to change Boromir’s end was to come soon.  She was also wondering if she should do it in the first place.

She was so adamant earlier to save him, but now, she wondered if that would be the right thing to do.  If she had “saved” Gandalf, what would have happened to the Fellowship?  Would any of the events play out as they should, or would it somehow mess with the timeline and doom others, when Gandalf missed his time to die?  The thoughts of what could happen if she changed this one thing swirled around in her mind.  Guilt began building in her chest as she contemplating letting him die.  His death was the catalyst for so many things.  She could deprive them of that, of their changes in character and personality and goals, just because she wanted to save one man.  

She looked at Boromir again, but found she could not look at him long.  If she let him die, she would be as much at fault as those who killed him.  What choice did she have though?  The consequences could be dire, and she wasn’t sure she should dabble with such things. Not yet, anyway.

That time came again for a rest, once Aragorn veered off to the right. After landing again, and dragging the boats further on the ground, they began setting up camp.  

Boromir was clearly fighting with himself about something.  She noticed it as soon as they docked, and he seemed no closer to an answer than before.  She was tempted to ask him, but thought better of it, since there was a greater chance of them being heard. She had a very good idea what it was, and she thought it would be better not to make the others too anxious around him, lest he be treated even more cautiously than he was now.

“We cross the lake at nightfall.  Hide the boats and continue on foot.  We approach Mordor from the North.” Aragorn told them, clearly not taking any arguments.

However, like always, Gimli wasn’t pleased. “Oh, yes? It’s just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands far as the eye can see.”

Aragorn regarded Gimli carefully.  “That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf.”  

“Recover my-” Gimli practically spit out before wandering off again.

She gave a little snort at his antics.  She tried to keep her focus on Boromir again, but discovered he wasn’t near the campsite.  She wasn’t going to worry about it.  He shouldn’t have gone very far, knowing the danger they were all in.  Then Merry inquired where Frodo was.

Her stomach dropped, and she looked around.  The Ring-Bearer had walked off again.  She barely contained a frustrated growl. Didn’t he know better than to wander when he was responsible for the most important thing to them all?  Did he really hold no regard for his own safety?

When Aragorn glanced worriedly at Boromir’s abandoned shield, it clicked for her.  Boromir was with Frodo - and the Ring.

“I’m going to go look for Frodo.  Stay here.”  Aragorn told them, before running off. His tone had her worried.  It seemed like he already knew what was going to happen, he was almost resigned it.  

The camp fell silent, aside from Sam poking at a small pile of sticks.  

“It’s no coincidence that that Boromir fellow disappeared as soon Mr. Frodo.”  Sam grumbled, causing Anna to stare at him.

“What does that mean?”  She asked, not bothering to hold back her glare.

“We all know it!  He’s been after the Ring since the beginning.”  

She walked over to him, fists clenched and shaking.  “You don’t know that.  You don’t know what he’ll do.”

Sam regarded her with sympathy. “Neither do you.”

She blanched at that.  Knowing the truth that rang through the statement.

Anna didn’t want to think about the fact that she knew it was highly unlikely Boromir wouldn’t take the opportunity, but she felt like he wouldn’t resort to violence.  The ginger also ignored the little voice reminding her how he acted with her in the beginning, before she proved herself useful to the Fellowship.  She shook her head, attempting to banish such thoughts.  Boromir wasn’t a bad man.  He was just confused, pressured by his father, and the Ring had a stronger grip on him.  That would drive anyone to act differently and be more agitated than normal.

It was suddenly very apparent that she, Gimli, Sam and Legolas were now the only ones at the camp.  Pippin and Merry were missing now as well.  It looked like the Fellowship was just disappearing one by one.

“Stay here.  We shall look for them.”  Legolas told her, while he and Gimli set off in the direction Aragorn had taken a few moments before.  

She watched them disappear from view, eyed Sam, and they both immediately followed.

“You find Frodo, I’m going to look for Boromir.”  She told him.  The Hobbit didn’t verbally speak, just nodded, and took off.  

She wandered for a while, straining her ears for footsteps, voices, the clanging of weapons, anything.  Eventually, she tripped over a pile of sticks that were just there on the ground. She picked herself up, and noticed that the area surrounding her was disturbed.  Someone had been here.

She scanned the area, trying to make out shapes among the trees. “Boromir!” She called out, hoping he would hear her.

“I know it’s working, run!”  She heard faintly.

She instantly recognized Merry’s voice.  “Merry!”  She yelled, and took off in his direction.

Once the ringing of metal reached her ears, she halted in panic.  The orcs had caught up with them.  She exhaled slowly, and was suddenly thankful for Galadriel’s gift. She would need it now.

Anna grabbed her small axes, holding them tightly in both hands, and ran in the direction of the fighting.  A sudden, strange noise bellowed through the air.  It took her a minute before Anna realized it was Boromir’s horn.  

“No.”  She whispered to herself, pushing her legs to run faster.  

The growls of Orcs were getting louder.

When she finally got him in her sights, he was beating back many Orcs at the same time.  She hurried behind one of them, slashing through the back of its neck, almost decapitating it easily.  

She stared at the axe in wonder.  The Elves really did reinforce it.  It was lighter than it originally was, and somehow, it was sharper and more precise.  All evidence of age had been wiped away, but the dwarven carvings were still plain as could be.  

She couldn’t marvel at the craftsmanship for long, as the Orcs were still coming in droves.  She quickly swung both axes wildly behind her, somehow knocking the Orc approaching her from behind to the ground.  She brought a blade to its face, slicing it in half.  Her insides lurched at the spurting of black blood, but she refused to concentrate on that now.  She told herself it either them or her.  

“Anna!  Run!”  Boromir cried, trying to distract the Orcs away from both her and the two Hobbits she noticed by the trees.

“No!”  She yelled, swinging again. “I’m not leaving!”

The axe connected with an Orc’s shield, causing her to swing the other at the now vulnerable body.  The Orc however, seemed to know what she was doing.  He crashed his blade against hers, causing her arm to bounce away from the impact.  She grunted, and tried swinging again.

It squealed once she had cut off part of its arm, and then she swung at his head, effectively cutting off its nose.  As it sank to its knees, she rammed her weapon into its skull.  

She heard Boromir’s labored breathing behind her.  His sword slicing through the Uruk’s quicker than she killed one.  She tried to tell him they needed to leave to area, but a taller creature approached her.  She looked at it, huge bow in hand and an arrow being notched.  Her eyes widened, her gut telling her this was the one that was to kill Boromir.  

She clutched the Elven-made axe tighter, changing her grip for throwing.  Once she tossed it, the bigger Uruk-hai simply grabbed one of its companion’s to take the hit for him.  

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped from shock.  Weren’t they supposed to be on the same side?

When the decoy Orc fell to its knees, the leader shot an arrow in her direction. She jumped immediately to the side, landing hard on the ground. Anna tried pushing herself to her feet, but was pushed back when another Orc jumped at her, holding her against the grass.  She struggled, trying to get it off, while it tried slamming its’ blade into her head.  She eventually got the upper hand, holding its weapon before her and using her feet and hips to change their positions.  

She felt the blood pumped through her veins as she was now on top of it,  and pushing the metal into its neck.  Black liquid squirted out, splashing her face.  She fought back another gag, and continued her harsh decapitation until the metal hit grass.  She fell forward with it, gasping from the effort she exerted.  

The Dwarven axe were barely within her reach. Stretching, Anna grabbed it and stood up.  Swaying a little in place, she glanced around, the chaos surrounding her too much for her to comprehend.  She suddenly heard the twang of a bowstring and a pained gasp.  

Boromir had been struck.  

Lurching forward, she snagged her previously thrown axe, and ran toward the Uruk leader.  With a cry of rage and fear, she swung at him.  

He dodged, moving to the side, as Boromir got to his feet and continued fighting, ignoring the arrow in his shoulder.  She tried to connect her axes with any part of the Orc’s body, but it was remarkably fast and agile. This was no ordinary Orc, she reminded herself.  This was one of Saruman’s creations, something that was better than the original.  

They circled each other, trying to find an opening.  Finally, it growled and pulled out a dagger.  She tried to remain calm, but the longer she stared at those violence-ridden eyes, the more unsettled she became.  

Just then, she had to jump to the side, as another sword came down where she was previously standing.  The footsteps of the creature trying to approach her from behind were not quiet, and they were what had alerted her to the new threat.  She knew that meant that Boromir was now more vulnerable, since only an arrow seemed to able to harm him, no other weapon being able to get close enough to stab him.  

She parried with the creature for a while, as her only option was to defend.  It just wouldn’t let up, it kept coming at her and coming at her, all the while she heard Boromir get hit again with another arrow.  Panic bubbled, tears fell and she yelled out in frustration.  When its own momentum seemed to be out of control, she leapt to the side, bringing her axe down on its arm, the other on its neck.  With another cry, letting her rage and adrenaline rush control her movements now, she swung again.  Three more times and the Uruk was now in pieces.

When she noticed that it was indeed dead, she ran off, trying to get to Boromir.  Instead, she found the Orc readying another arrow to shoot Boromir a third time.  Without thinking, she threw her axe again, then the other, both missing the orc by a few inches.  She slammed into his back, hoping to knock him off his feet, but she overestimated her own strength.  He just seemed annoyed by her and backhanded her off him.  He then grabbed his bow, arrow still notched and shot Boromir, who was attempting to stand.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion.  She screamed as she saw the arrow lodge itself into his stomach. His eyes widened from shock and pain, he gasped twice and fell backward, the arrows still lodged in his body.  

She couldn’t get up, her back and hip hurting from her being slammed into the ground, so she tried to crawl forward.  Tears streaming down her cheeks, she dragged herself along the grass.

“Oh, god…” She whimpered, as she watched him struggle with himself.

His mouth opened and closed, gasping for breath that could just barely come.  

She fought against her captors, screaming for Boromir, who was still trying to speak.  The Orc who grabbed her jerked her against his shoulder, effectively cutting off her breathe, causing her to choke.  

“Shut up.”  It growled out, running off with her, along with most of its’ group.

The leader was still in front of Boromir, seeming to take his time notching another arrow to kill the Captain.  That was the last thing she saw before her vision turned black.

**********

It was night time before she regained consciousness.  Or rather, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground jolted her awake.  

She heard a growl and an answering grumble that could belong to nothing else but an Orc and the Uruk-hai.  

“The prisoners go alive, and unspoiled.”

Her eyes shot open at that statement.  She looked around, ignoring the immense pain coming from her stomach.  Her eyes met that of Pippin and Merry. Pippin made to speak, but she shook her head vigorously, mouthing for him to not to speak.

She was saddened that they were indeed captured.  She had hoped they would somehow avoid the Uruks and Orcs altogether.

“Alive?  Why alive?”  The arguing Orc questioned.  “Do they give good sport?”  

“They have something.  An Elvish weapon.  The master wants it for the war.”

Dread filled her.  They thought Merry and Pippin had the Ring.  

“Well, what about the female?  She ain’t got no weapon.  Why can’t we eat her?”  

Fear gripped her.  Her body shook, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out.  

“The master wants her as well.  Leave it, and eat what you’re given!”  

Anna never thought she’d see the day where she was grateful she wasn’t getting eaten.

She suddenly saw a shadow linger over her. The Orc hovering over her had a big nose and even bigger eyes, making it seem much creepier than normal.  

“But she looks tasty!  Just a bite won’t hurt, a little off the flank!”  

There was a roar and the Orc’s head toppled off, landing in front of her, while the body splayed over her.  The smell alone was capable of making her gag, but she fought against moving.

When the body was hauled off her, blood ended up splashing in her mouth, and she instantly choked and coughed.  

“Looks like meat’s back on the menu, boys.”  There was a roar of approval and a battle broke out.  

Crying out from shock and panic, she rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding another body landing on her.  She tried to get up, but her stomach protested the movement.  Her wrists and ankles were tied together so she ended up crawling back toward the dead body that landed on her first.  She grabbed the small dagger tied to its side, and began slicing through her ropes.  Her eyes roved the area, trying to pinpoint where Merry and Pippin were, but she couldn’t make out any small bodies in between all the death that was being doled out.  When her hands and ankles were cut, she heard another sound, like thunder.  

A storm of horses, with armor-clad riders came thundering through the camp.  Spears were thrown everywhere, heads were being lopped off, and Anna couldn’t figure out which direction was safe.  She zigzagged throughout, ending up knocking into a horse and its rider, tossing her on her bottom.  

Her flight instinct was in full-throttle as she quickly stood and ran past the horse, whose rider was now yelling at her to stop.

“Wait!  You’ll be killed if you go in there!”  He yelled, grabbing hold of her arm.  

 She was in near hysterics now, slapping at him, screaming at him to let her go.  She ended up knocking his helmet off, and he still fought to keep his hold on her.  

“Stop fighting me, I’m trying to help you!”  He shouted.

She noticed an Orc creeping up on them, and she gasped, ducking out of the way once he swung at the rider.  

The man cursed and let go of her arm to grab his sword.  Once she was free, she shot toward the trees, while trying to quell the sounds of her sobs at the same time.

She ducked under some tree branches and finally made her way into the forest.  

She ran, her movements erratic from fear and panic.  She burst past low-hanging branches and bushes, ignoring the scratches that now covered her face and hands.  Her legs eventually gave out by a thick tree.  She was now on her knees, and she slid her back into the trunk and sat there.  

Anna looked around the area, trying to halt her rapid breaths and trying to make sure she wasn’t followed at the same time.  When she saw no enemy lumbering after her, she closed her eyes and began her counting.  

1 _breath_ 2 _breath_ 3…

It wasn’t working.  The adrenaline was too much for her, the battles that just kept coming and the blood and the death and the screaming was all too much.  Her cries turned to wails that she muffled by sticking her fist in her mouth.  She ignored the taste of dirt and grass on them, ignored the pain as her teeth were buried in her skin, almost drawing blood.

On she went, until she had calmed herself down to the point where her limbs felt like jelly and she was slowly becoming aware of herself.  Her breaths were wheezes now that her voice seemed to have abandoned her.

She still held the dagger she used to cut her bonds in her right hand.  Her face stung from the tiny cuts left behind from the branches and splinters.  Her clothing was torn in several places, and her hair was hanging loose around her face, having freed itself from the braid.  

It wasn’t until she tried to stand that she felt the damage done to her abdomen.  Slowly, and hesitantly, she lifted her shirt, only to see her once creamy-white, freckled skin, now inked over with black and purple bruising.  She groaned at the pain that breathing now caused her, and let her shirt drop back into place.  

She remembered the pouch that Aragorn had given her, and reached for her belt.  When she felt nothing by the torn cloth of her shirt, she felt all around her waist for it.  It was gone.  The belt, her healing salve, both were missing from her person.  She felt her chest tighten as she thought of how she would have endure pain again. Her hands having not completely healed yet, though they close, and she had lost her bandages.

Anna knew that in order to keep safe she had to keep moving.  In order to keep moving, she knew she had to stand up.  She grit her teeth.  Using one hand to use the tree for support, she kept her other arm, dagger in hand, clamped around her middle.  Her legs were shaky and they gave out on her a few times more, but she eventually she stood, albeit shakily.  She crept along slowly, keeping her eyes on her surroundings and straining her ears in case anything tried to sneak up on her.

Without the help of the moon to light her way, as the trees were now thick enough to blot out the sky, she tripped over more roots than she thought she ever had before today.  Still, she carried on.  

She had gone what had felt like miles, before she finally saw some kind of light emanating from strange trees. She rushed toward it, not caring what it “might” be.  She felt comfort from it, somehow, she knew she would be safe.  If only she could get there.

As she got closer, she noticed that it looked to be a man, wrapping a blinding white cloak.  Closer still, she realized he was carrying a white staff.  

Her feet instantly rooted themselves to the ground.  What if it was Saruman?  Isengard was the neighbor of Fangorn Forest.  It would make sense for the White Wizard to be here, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling of comfort.  

The figure turned toward her and she let out a cry of shocked joy.  She ran forward and slammed the man with a tight hug.  

He chuckled and returned her hug.  She felt the motions of him letting go, but she still held him, not ready to let go yet.  

Her throat began to tighten and her chest hurt, and she was suddenly crying again.  

The man sighed and tightened his hold around her, and she welcomed it.

Gandalf was back.


End file.
